


Winter has Come for Tony Stark

by QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds



Series: Slow Burn! The Series - with eventual Stony [6]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruce Is a Good Bro, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Crack, Everyone Loves Tony Stark, Fighting Back, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt Avengers, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt Tony Stark, Hydra (Marvel), I promise, I swear, I'll tag more when I think of it, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, Kidnapped Tony Stark, Kidnapping, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, No beta reader, One thinks the other is dead, Peter is breaking, Post-Avengers (2012), Sarcasm, Slow Burn, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Steve is breaking, Team as Family, There will be a happy ending, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is sick of this shit, Torture, Violence, although not too bad I think, but he is fine, different POV, everyone is breaking, i promise you!, mostly - Freeform, probably, there will be fluff I promise you, there will be so much fluff in the end, this will be crack-y from time to time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 104,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26931190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds/pseuds/QueenOfALotOfDifferentWorlds
Summary: Tony has been taken by Hydra. Surprisingly, that isn't a pleasant experience, even if Tony had worse. The Avengers are on their way to get him back whatever it takes. It would all be so much easier if there wasn't a third party involved."And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Steve knew that Tony was in danger. He knew Tony was a desirable target not only for his connections to the Avengers or his money or his genius but also because he had pissed off many people both as Iron Man and Tony Stark.And he couldn’t keep him safe like he wanted to or he’ll lose him."
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark, Clint Barton & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Avengers Team, Tony Stark & Thor, Tony Stark & Winter, pre Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Slow Burn! The Series - with eventual Stony [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978705
Comments: 860
Kudos: 229





	1. Steve: Trusting in your genius isn't a good idea

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> if you're new consider reading the installment before this because it's the set up (the whole series is connected, but you don't have to read it to understand this).
> 
> I'm not sure yet how long this will be... but I have a plan and am like 75% certain I'll be able to follow it.
> 
> I don’t own Marvel, I don't make money off of this and I really should be doing something else.
> 
> I'll post as often as I manage but I don't have a schedule. But at least in the last two months it was mostly 1 or 2 chapters a week.
> 
> Have fun!

“I’ll be fine, Steve.” Tony smiled up at him, his breathtakingly beautiful eyes sparkling. There was humour in his voice but also understanding. Acceptance. He might need daily reminders but right now he knew that Steve – that the Avengers saw him as their family. That he was important.

Of course, he realized it right now. Steve hadn’t left Tony’s side for more than an hour since the ‘island incident’. Even the others had tried to stay as close as possible. There had been a couple of sit-ins in Tony’s workshop and however much he had protested, all of them had seen the smile while he ranted.

Steve and Tony had even slept on Steve’s floor after the others decided to go back to their own. He hadn’t been able to stomach the thought and Tony, as self-sacrificing as he was, had offered to stay with Steve. Sometimes the soldier thought Tony had to know what he felt for him. But he didn’t. Steve knew he didn’t, because Tony would never be as cruel if he knew.

It was _torture_ to sleep beside Tony. Having him so close but not being able to touch. To watch his calm breathing and unguarded expression whenever he managed to sleep. Tony had a hard time falling asleep but whenever he managed, he would sleep through an Alien attack, Steve was sure.

Steve had never before been so grateful for his enormous bed and hated it as much at the same time.

Whatever the others insinuated, Steve knew that Tony could never like him like he liked him. Not even Captain America was interesting enough for someone as amazing as Tony. It stung a little that Tony didn’t show any hesitation whatsoever to climb into Steve’s bed. He obviously didn’t even _consider_ that something could be between them. Sure, Steve hadn’t told the other man that he was gay. God forbit that he fancied him. Still, it was disheartening to say the least.

Steve sighed heavily. Who was he trying to kid? He was head over heels for his genius. He was so in love with Tony that it wasn’t even funny anymore. Not even for Clint.

“I still think one of us-”

“Nope.” Tony leaned a little away from Steve, raising his eyebrow challengingly. “Not happening. I’m a big boy, you know? It’s just a couple of days and Pepper will be there. As much fun as I would have with all of you haunting me, Pep would kill me and don’t even give me the puppy dog eyes. I’m much more afraid of Pepper Potts.”

Steve nodded. That was reasonable. Almost too reasonable for Tony.

“I’ll even bring you something from Germany. What do you want?”

“I don’t-”

“Nat gets sweets, obviously. Bruce gets an autograph from someone there. Clint wants me to smuggle Kinder Surprise Eggs, whatever the hell that is, and I’ll get a beer jug for Thor for whenever he will come back. What do _you_ want?”

Steve didn’t say _To come with you_. He also didn’t say _For you to stay here_. And he definitely didn’t say _You_.

“I don’t need anything, Tony.”

“I didn’t ask what you _needed_. What do you _want_?”

“I have everything I could wish for.” He smiled at the smaller man, trying to hide the truth. He was happy. Maybe happier when he had ever been before. It was enough to have Tony as his teammate. As his best friend and family. It didn’t change that Steve wanted _more_. But that would be greedy. And the last thing he ever wanted to do was make Tony uncomfortable.

Tony frowned, obviously knowing that he was hiding something. But he didn’t push. He rarely did with stuff like that. The genius could be the most persistent person Steve had ever met, standing his ground to everyone, not giving even an inch. But he also knew when to keep silent. To accept that others didn’t want to share.

Steve appreciated that. He loved him for it more. Not many people would go toe to toe with Captain America, not giving two thoughts about the fact that he could hurt and kill them without even trying. Even less people would be willing to indulge Steve Rogers curiosity, his illiteracy in almost everything technological. Tony had taught him so much in the last couple of months.

But most important: Tony could make Steve laugh on days when he felt the ice creep into his bones and he couldn’t stand water even being near him. He would talk and talk and talk when Steve couldn’t hear anything else but his erratic heartbeat and he would sit beside him, silently, when the world got to heavy and loud around him.

Steve loved Tony.

He would do everything in his power to keep him safe and happy. Steve would take anything Tony was willing to give him. He already had given the soldier more than he had ever hoped for: a family and a home. Hope. Someone to love. People to believe in.

“I’ll find something.” Tony smiled. It was a little subdued but all the softer. “I’ll find something you want.”

Nodding, Steve smiled back. There was nothing else in this century he wanted or needed. It was all right here.

Steve had made Tony eat a healthy breakfast before he and the rest of the Avengers let him go. Tony had glared at all of them suspiciously as if he expected a sneak attack, being chloroformed by any of them or to be imprisoned in his workshop.

The Avengers had talked about it. Just for a moment entertaining the idea to keep him safe where they would _know_ no one would be able to harm him.

Natasha and Clint had come up with unsurprisingly good cover stories for both keeping Tony hidden or following him on his trip.

Bruce, who had gone a little green when Tony told them the day before yesterday that of course, he would travel to Germany on his own, had reminded them all that Tony had been very patient with them. Even accommodating regarding their obsessive need to keep an eye on him. But he wouldn’t be able to keep that up for much longer.

As much as Steve knew the genius liked and appreciated them, he needed room to breathe. He needed times in which he could express himself in ways only Bruce and sometimes Peter could understand.

Once, Tony had tried to explain to them how he had come up with a plan that he had used in the field that had worked but thrown all of them off their rhythm. It had been a particularly bad fight between them before the genius had snapped, opening about thirty windows on a laptop and starting to fill all of them with different information in just a few minutes. Than he had turned, glared at all of them and had said: “A hostage is taken in a bank. What do we do?” Then he had pressed one finger down and a second later three plans had popped up, perfect plans all thought out and ready to go. “This is what my brain looks like all the time. Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what I’m doing.” He had stormed off and all of them had read through the different windows, calculations and plans.

Afterwards no one had assumed he hadn’t planned out what he did. The only problems were that he didn’t care for his own safety and that he most often couldn’t communicate his thought process and outcomes in the timeframe they had.

One night, Tony had tried to explain it to Steve. His _need_ to follow his thoughts. His inability to stop thinking. His forgetfulness of his basic needs like food. Like sleep. They had been sitting on the couch on the common room floor and Steve couldn’t stop smiling at Tony. At his excitement, the way he waved his hands and his inability to explain what was going on when his genius took over.

Steve thought he understood enough from what Tony was trying to put into words to understand two things.

One, Tony loved people. And because of that he often forgot that people weren’t as brilliant as he was. They weren’t as loyal, as sacrificing or as good. He saw the world in so many facets, with so many options and possibilities that he couldn’t comprehend that others didn’t see it. When he tried to explain most people thought him to be arrogant or delusional.

So, he started to play that part years ago. Acting as an asshole because people expected him to be one. And he could be one. Steve knew. Tony got frustrated when others didn’t see the picture. Got annoyed when he had to explain stuff that was so obvious to him. His words could cut deeper than any blade of the Widow and be more devastating than a punch of the Hulk. If he saw you as his enemy he would annihilate you. If you threatened what was his he would do worse. Many underestimated him and he used it against them. He expected betrayal from almost everyone and had enough demons to fill hell.

Second, Tony literally forgot anything around him if his genius took over. He forgot his own needs. He forgot the needs of the people around him. He forgot how to communicate like an adult – or human for that matter. He forgot the task at hand, what he was doing, where he was supposed to be and why he was doing what he should be doing. And he needed to let his genius out when it hit him. He needed it like air. He also needed time on his own to sort through his thoughts.

It all came down to the same conclusion: They couldn’t keep him hidden. They couldn’t follow him everywhere. No matter how much all of them wanted to do it. They would keep as close an eye as they could as often as they were able to.

But Tony had to live his own life. They had to accept that. If they didn’t, if they tried to put him into a cage they would lose him and Steve couldn’t. He couldn’t lose him.

And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He _knew_ that Tony was in danger. He _knew_ Tony was a desirable target not only for his connections to the Avengers or his money or his genius but also because he had pissed off many people both as Iron Man and Tony Stark.

And he couldn’t keep him safe like he wanted to or he’ll lose him.

“Cheer up, Cap.” Clint patted him on the back. “Loverboy will be back in a flash and we all will feel really stupid for panicking.”

Steve smiled down at the other man, who just a few months ago didn’t feel comfortable enough to look them in the eyes, who didn’t care for anyone but Natasha. They all had come so far in what still wasn’t a full year.

Natasha and Clint roped him into training with them, something they did quite often but he knew, right now, they did it to keep him occupied.

When his cell phone received a message a couple hours later, they went as still as he did. Walking over to it and grabbing his water bottle while he was at it, he smiled.

“What did Mom write?” Clint asked, looking away from Nat. That, as anyone knew, was a mistake. She used the moment to tackle him to the mat.

“Peter followed him.”

“What?” Natasha looked up from where she was playfully strangling her teammate.

“Apparently he saw Tony leave the Tower without any of us, panicked and snuck onto his plane.”

“Hah!” Clint laughed breathlessly. “The bug is better than all of us.”

“He got caught.” Nat said, helping Clint up, but her smile was relaxed.

“Over the Atlantic Ocean. It’s not like Tony could kick him out.”

“But he’ll send him back.” Nat looked at Steve, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes. He asked if I could get him from the airport around 11am tomorrow.”

“Uhhh he lets you take care of his kid.” Clint cooed grinning at Steve. “That means something, Cap.”

Steve blushed. He knew that Tony didn’t mean it that way. He was just texting with him and asking him because May Parker would be at work when Peter landed. It didn’t mean what Clint insinuated. Even if he wished it did.

A couple hours later he got a picture from Happy. It showed Tony and Peter in an animated conversation. Both men had sparkling eyes and no one would assume that they were anything but father and son. The Avengers knew that they weren’t blood. But seeing them together, seeing Peter trust and love Tony and Tony trying to be his best for the kid even if he still feared that he might mess him up was humbling.

It also proved to Steve that Tony, despite being betrayed, brutalized and let down by the world and so many people he still hadn’t let himself turn cruel or uncaring. It seemed to be the opposite actually.

And Tony had asked Steve to take care of Peter while he was on another continent. Even if just for a few hours. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t the same connotation for Tony as it had for Steve. It still was a sign of his trust. That he knew Steve would protect Peter with his life because Tony loved him.

After that Steve relaxed. Tony was safe.

He was woken at 4:34 in the morning by a call. It wasn’t the Avengers Alarm ringtone, so it took him a second longer to realize what was happening.

Rolling onto his side he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and put it to his ear without looking at the caller ID.

“Rogers.”

“Steve?”

His name was enough to wake him fully. Dread, scorching hot, pooled in his stomach and churned through his chest. He barely realized that he had stopped breathing, that his heart was almost jumping out of his chest or that he was clutching at his blanket with a desperate iron grip.

Pepper’s voice hadn’t been her own. Almost too distorted to be recognisable by anguish and terror.

“What happened?” Because he needed the facts. He needed to know. He needed to start working, to get to the Quinjet, to wake the other Avengers and-

“He… Tony…” He heard her take a steadying breath. Her voice still shook, but there was an underlying hardness in it now, too. She had lived through this before. She knew what could happen. Because Tony was alive. Steve _knew_ he was. There was no other way. There was no other _fucking_ way.

“He never made it to the hotel.”

Steve tried to breathe. He needed to breathe. He had to stay focused. Tony had been taken. He didn’t make it to the hotel so most likely he had been grabbed off the streets. When he sent Peter back it must be around 6am in Germany if he was to land in New York around 11am.

“It… His driver was killed by… by a sniper. Headshot.”

They had prepared for it. They had known about his schedule.

“The police… They say…” There was a hitch in her voice before she cleared her throat. “They found blood. They say he couldn’t be seriously injured.”

But they couldn’t know that, could they? If he had been moved fast enough there wouldn’t be much blood. That he had been taken suggested that it wasn’t a hit on his life. Or at least that whoever had taken him wanted to draw this out as much as possible if it was a hit.

More likely was that he had been taken because of the reasons Steve had thought about not twenty-four hours ago. He could be used as leverage against the Avengers, Stark Industries and Steve. He could be taken to demand a ransom. He could be _used_ for his genius. All of this could be because of revenge.

Without additional information Steve couldn’t be sure.

“What else?”

“…they think whoever did this was a professional.”

Obviously, Steve thought, but didn’t say it.

“When they found the car, it was burned down. The… the blood… it was a little to the side of the road. They think they put him into the trunk and-” The sound she made wasn’t a sob but it was too close for comfort. “They didn’t find anything else. No bullet casing, not the place where the shooter had been and the coroner… she says she is probably not going to be able to find much on the driver. They used some chemical fire accelerator and there is barely anything left of the car.”

They must have been at least two people. Probably three. They were most likely highly trained, focused and practiced.

“Did he get any threats?” Logically he knew he shouldn’t demand answers like he did just now. Pepper was distressed, probably in shock and obviously breaking. But he couldn’t. He needed answers. He needed to react and he needed… Tony.

“Nothing serious.”

Or they dismissed it.

“Jarvis?”

“I’m already re-evaluating everything from the last six months, Captain Rogers.” Jarvis’ voice was cold and detached. So much more like the machine he actually was than normally. There was nothing left of his sarcasm and warmth.

“Why didn’t you alarm me when it happened?”

“I just got off the phone with-” Pepper started, fury lacing her words but Steve interrupted her.

“I was asking Jarvis.”

“I didn’t know.” Jarvis’ words were clipped, a dangerous threat dancing under the surface. “My presence on his phone is not nearly as all-encompassing as it should be. Sir didn’t have time to modify it after his last upgrade.” Steve remembered Tony telling him about it in passing. Something about his clingy teammates that wouldn’t let him work.

“I’m going through the data as we speak. Something scrambled the signals. His trackers are out of commission too. These attackers were more than prepared.”

Fuck.

“Jarvis…” The name was a desperate plead from Pepper. “We… what…”

“Please sit down, Miss Potts. If you aren’t able to calm down I will be forced to contact someone to help you.”

Jarvis must have hacked the call, because Steve could hear Pepper moving. He could hear her trying to calm her breathing.

“I will work through every signal, trying to find as many information sources as possible. Although the street where Sir has been attacked is not covered with any surveillance.”

Of course, it wasn’t. Something dark twisted in the flames licking at Steve’s insides. They obviously knew way too much about Tony. About Iron Man. Possibly even about his previous kidnappings and where others had failed.

“Captain Rogers will wake the other Avengers. After that we will inform you how we will proceed.” There was no room for objections in the AI’s statement. No room for discussions. And Steve was grateful for it.

“The second you hear something-”

“I’ll tell you. Same goes for you.” Pepper interrupted him. Her voice like steel. She took another deep breath. “I’ll call Rhodey now.”

“I’ll wake the Avengers.” Steve said, his voice hard. Forcing himself to soften it he added, “We’ll get him back, Pepper.”

“Of course, we will.”

The line went dead. Silence encompassed him, only interrupted by his thundering heartbeat, the too irregular in- and exhales and the unrelenting scream in his head.

Tony had been taken.

Tony was in the hands of someone who had not only killed the driver with him but burned down the evidence in a pointed declaration of dominance.

Tony was held by someone who would do whatever it took to get what they wanted. And Tony, _his Tony_ , wouldn’t give in. He would rather die than build a weapon. He wouldn’t give up information. Whatever they wanted he wouldn’t give it to them. He wouldn’t think his life would be worth saving by compromising his believes or those he considered more important.

Steve closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead to his knees. He felt everything slip. He felt the world lose colour and-

Hands were on him, grabbing his shoulders.

“Steve!” It was Natasha.

Balling his hands tighter, Steve forced everything down. It didn’t matter that he felt shattered. It didn’t matter that there was nothing left but the frantic scream, the terror, the anguish. He needed to be in control. He needed to be able to help Tony. He needed to be better!

He looked up, meeting Natasha’s eyes. It was enough to know Jarvis had filled her in. There was the same desperation in her eyes he felt. The same fury. The same fear.

As soon as she knew she had his attention she sat back on her heels, her eyes growing darker. More focussed.

“Agent Romanov, I woke Agent Barton and Dr. Banner and asked them to come to Captain Rogers’ floor.”

“Thank you, Jarvis.” Natasha answered, her voice precise and calm. Too calm. Too precise. This was not their Nat. It was the Black Widow talking.

“Get up, Captain.” She stood up, leaving his bedroom without so much as a backwards glance.

Steve followed. He didn’t feel his body. Didn’t feel his bare feet walking over the cold floor. Didn’t feel his hand opening the door wider to step through. He didn’t feel the stool he sat on.

He didn’t feel the warmth of the coffee mug Natasha pressed into his hands.

He was barely able to hold it. The smell reminded him of home. Of safety. Of Tony.

Minutes later Clint burst through the vents. Almost at the same time the elevator doors opened and let Bruce in. Both looked panicked. Bruce wasn’t green yet, but the balled fists were a bad sign already.

“What happened?” Clint demanded, repeating the same question Steve had asked not thirty minutes ago. It already felt like a lifetime.

Steve opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He tried a second time. “Tony has been taken.”

The silence that stretched between them felt like an eternity.

Clint tensed so much, it looked like he would snap his back any second.

Bruce eyes were shining bright green. Before anyone could say anything, he held up his trembling hand to stop them. Forcefully he started one of his breathing exercises. His eyes stayed green however.

Long minutes later he lowered his hand.

Every second they didn’t do anything was another knife in Steve’s heart. His mind was swirling with images what they could do to Tony. What he could be suffering. At the same time his thoughts were slow, sluggish. He was most likely in shock.

Jarvis recapped the conversation with Pepper showing them all the data he already gathered. Including the provisionally reports by the police.

There was almost nothing to go on. Aside from the burned down car, corpse and splatter of blood there was no sign anything had happened at all.

“They left the blood intentionally.”

Steve looked up. Clint looked at Nat, conviction plainly on his face. “When the lab report comes back it will most likely be Tony’s with some drug remnants to make him more pliable.”

Steve grabbed the kitchen counter forcefully. The only reason it didn’t break was that Tony had enforced it.

Natasha nodded. She was almost expressionless aside from the fire in her eyes.

“Why?” Bruce asked, what Steve just couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t want to know what that would mean. He didn’t want to think about it.

“It’s proof for us that they got him and that he won’t be able to fight back.”

Steve closed his eyes. He had guessed as much.

“When do we leave for Germany?”

“As soon as we talked to Happy and Peter.”

Steve looked up at Nat a contradiction already on his lips.

“They might have seen something, Steve.” Her voice was hard. “They were with him in the hours before he was taken. There is a reason they waited till he was alone. Do they know about Peter? Didn’t they want to kill a kid? Why didn’t they take them too? It’s common knowledge that Happy is a good friend of Tony. And if they saw Tony and Peter together they would have _known_ they would get Tony to agree to almost anything if they would threaten Peter. But they didn’t. Why?”

His stomach lurched at that but he was able to keep it down. Tony would never recover if something happened to Peter because someone wanted something from the genius. He would do anything to protect his kid. He would-

Why didn’t they take Peter and Happy with them? Didn’t they have the manpower? No one knew about Peter being Spider Man. Was it possible that they didn’t want to hurt a kid? What if they got them too?

Steve opened his mouth but Jarvis was faster.

“I’m in direct contact with the plane. Mr. Parker and Mr. Hogan are safe and secure.”

“Did you tell them?”

There was a pause before the AI answered. “No. I fear for their reaction. Especially Mr. Parker’s.”

Steve closed his eyes. Peter had already lost his parents and his uncle. He had visited the Tower almost daily in the last week and he had joked with Clint about how the Kid was this close to permanently attach himself to his mentor.

He had snuck on a plane just to keep him safe and as soon as he had turned his back on him he had been taken. It would break Peter.

“I’ll get in contact with someone in Germany. She lives near Düsseldorf. I’m sure we can have our base in her home.” Natasha said, standing up. “Clint.”

“Yes.” The archer sat down on the stool beside Steve.

“Bruce?”

“I’ll help Jarvis get through some of the information.” The slight growl in his voice was hard to ignore, but Steve couldn’t care. Not right now.

In the next hours Pepper called twice. Colonel Rhodes was on his way to Germany already.

Natasha’s contact had invited them, promising to start inquiries.

And Steve was uselessly sitting in front of a screen, barely able to understand anything. Barely able to concentrate.

At 10:30am Clint and he drove to the private airport. They watched as Tony’s plane touched down.

Steve had no idea what he should do. He had no idea how to tell Peter that his father figure had been kidnapped. That they didn’t know anything aside from speculations.

Clint was a silent present beside him. The signs of anger were the only he let show. But whenever their eyes met, he nodded. They would get Tony back. They would. That was what he needed to tell Peter. They would get Tony back and-

Peter climbed down the stairs, his shoulders tensing when he saw them.

Steve had no idea what he looked like.

When Tony’s kid stopped in front of them, fidgeting nervously Steve inhaled.

“Peter.” He heard it in his voice. He saw it in Peter’s eyes.

Peter whimpered, an agonized sound that cut right through Steve. Whatever he felt this was a kid that had lost far too many people already. He was a hero, he was Tony’s child and he knew far too much about the cruelty of the world.

“Peter,” he started again, trying to calm his voice and failing. “Tony has been taken.”

Tony’s kid whimpered again.

“We’re getting him back Peter, I promise you, we’re going to do anything and everything to get him back.”

Peter looked up at Steve, unshed tears in his chocolate coloured eyes. Old pain mixing with new in a swirl he should be too young to know.

He didn’t believe him.


	2. Winter: Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter's new target is interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> so we will see this story from 3 POV's Steve's (obviously), Winter (because I'm a sucker) and Tony (because I love him).
> 
> I fear the Winter chapters are going to be a lot shorter than the others, but we'll have to see. I'm already in chapter three, so keep your thumbs pressed (the German equivalent of crossing your fingers) and I might be able to post it today too :D

Winter knew he shouldn’t be thinking. If his handlers found out he would be punished. Still, he couldn’t stop.

It was almost a year since he had been defrosted. He didn’t know how long it was he had last been put in the chair. As he wasn’t really sure why it was important, he didn’t really think much about it.

Not like he was thinking about thinking. He knew, even if he didn’t know why, that he had to hide it from his handlers. He also knew they weren’t thinking all that much themselves. They didn’t even realize that he was thinking. That he was lying to them.

And he didn’t know why he was lying to them. Not yet. But he might remember. Or learn. Winter was good at learning. He liked it. Not that he was allowed to like something. But he lied about that, too.

It seemed he also liked lying.

Settling back onto his haunches, he kept looking through the sniper scope. His target was hugging a kid, pushing him towards a plane. He had followed them the last couple of hours since they landed on the private airport. As his handlers, stupidly, had told him to only take Stark and they hadn’t given more orders, Winter decided to wait until he was mostly alone.

There was no reason he could name why he didn’t want to kill the younger man. But he didn’t. And as he didn’t have direct orders to do so, he didn’t.

It felt good to decide something.

The target followed the kid on the plane. If they took off Winter would have to follow him. And he would be punished. He didn’t want to be punished.

A few minutes later the man came back out of the plane, walking over to a car.

As there were only two roads and Winter knew where the target’s hotel was, he would wait for him. He snuck back to his black car, getting in and driving to the part of the road he knew would be the best place to take Stark.

He parked the car, got out, laid down a plastic tarpaulin, stepped to the side of the road, hid the button on the device he was told to hit and waited. 87 seconds. As soon as the car was visible, he stepped into the middle of the road.

The driver took longer than Winter would have guessed to see him and react. In the twilight of the morning he should have seen him sooner. But eventually he did and he reacted. He hit the brakes.

When the car had slowed down enough, Winter raised his gun and shot the driver in the head, before stepping to the side, letting the car crash into the tree behind him. He had chosen this curve for a reason after all.

He was at the door of the target in five steps, ripping it open, and jumping to the side to avoid the bullet the target fired at him. In the same movement, he grabbed the target by the throat, cutting his air off effectively. With his other hand, he took a syringe out of his belt, jamming it into his arm.

The target still struggled against the grip. By now he also struggled against the drugs. Winter smiled. Few people were fighters. Most were just afraid.

When the struggles subsided, he dragged him behind his own car, laying him down on the tarpaulin. By now he was out cold. He grabbed the canisters with fire accelerator, covering the other car with it and set it aflame.

Using the light it provided, he grabbed another device his handlers had given him. Moving it over the target, he found four trackers, cutting all of them out, before throwing them into the fire.

Grabbing the unconscious man, he moved him back to the street, letting some of his blood fall on the asphalt. That had been a direct order.

As was binding the man’s hand in a way to make it unable for him to use them. Winter wrapped them up in towels and bound one in front of his chest and the other behind his back. He used two ropes in a way he had seen being used on small children to make them stop squirm in their seats. He thought it was a rather good contraption.

Putting the man into the trunk, he sighed.

He didn’t want to go back. It didn’t matter. He would. He wasn’t sure why. But he would.

He sat down onto the driver’s seat and started driving.

Glancing at the radio Winter made another decision. And turned it on. It took some time until he found a station he liked. But he listened to it. And he decided that he liked and disliked songs. He just did it. And it felt good.

The drive took two hours which was mostly because the A3, a terrible excuse for an Autobahn, was packed with cars and they were stuck for an hour in stop and go.

When they arrived, Winter changed the station of the radio again, before turning it off.

He parked the car, looking up at the house. It wasn’t a sensible HQ. Aside from the underground parts. That’s where he took the target, placing him in the intended cell and chained him to the wall. He gave him enough spiel so that he would be able to stand almost comfortably on most of his feet.

“Asset.”

He turned, looking at one of his handlers. He was shifty as always.

The handler took another step closer, not being able to control his signs of fear. He glanced to the target, his eyes widening a little.

“Gab es Probleme?”

Winter shook his head. Of course, there hadn’t been problems. He could have told him he was late because of the kid. He didn’t.

“Zurück in deine Zelle.” The handler made a dismissing hand gesture, trying to appear as if he didn’t follow Winter with his eyes. He did. All of the people here were afraid of Winter.

Not saying anything, Winter stepped out of the cell, going to his own. Three doors down to the right. He sat down on his bed, staring at the stone wall.

The target hadn’t been afraid. He hadn’t shown any signs of fear when Winter had shot the driver. He hadn’t shown anything like it when he shot at Winter. Or when Winter choked him. Not even when he was pieced by the needle. There had been anger, frustration. Maybe even annoyance. But no fear.

Winter knew to identify all those emotions. And he even had felt annoyance. And frustration. Not often. And it started just a few weeks back. But he was almost sure he had. As he had started liking thinks. And disliking things. Like his handlers.

Right now, he felt something else. He wasn’t sure he could name it, but it was an interesting prickling. Like anticipation. But not bad. It wasn’t a bad feeling.

He was curious. Curious about the target, the small and fragile human that, as far as Winter was concerned, didn’t fear him at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of Winter's voice? I'll try to write them as differently as logical and possible. Thoughts?
> 
> Thanks for reading and as always: your comments give me life :D
> 
> Oh and a short rant: I'm so fucking angry because I was supposed to be off work next week to concentrate on my studies and guess what: We had a first contact of Covid in the kindergarten I work. And because I'm the fucking boss and I still don't have all the results back (I'm negative by the way) I'm constantly on my work phone because worst case? I have to close on Monday. Im so tired of this shit. Sorry for ranting.


	3. Tony: Revelations and other Unpleasant Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony wakes up in darkness and because he really is a genius he knows: This isn't good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens! I'm almost sure where this is going :D
> 
> Enjoy!

They would kill him. Tony just _knew_ they would kill him. Most likely slowly with sweet promises and a ruthless efficiency. First, they would appear to be nice and accommodating. Trying to appear helpful. And then, when Tony wouldn’t be able to give them what they wanted, they would kill him, slowly and tortoursly. Or, if one of the angrier ones got their hands on him, he would die quickly and messily.

Groaning, he moved in his cuffs, checking how much room for movement he had. Not much but enough to work if he got a tool. And if he got rid of the towels wrapped around his hands.

He was chained to a wall, stone by the feel of it, standing on his toes, staring into total darkness. Not very interesting. 

Aside from the lack of entertainment, he was good. Or better than he had hoped to be when he was knocked out (not that he had thought there was even the possibility he wouldn’t wake up. All the set up? Too much work to just kill him). Sure, his head hurt like he had a mean hangover and he was sure at least three of his trackers had been cut out without caring about his comfort. And there were some deep bruises from the car crash, maybe a bruised rip and a damn sore throat from being choked by a metal hand he shouldn’t think to be so damn interesting. All in all, he was good.

But back to the _real_ problem. Whatever it was that whoever had kidnapped him this time wanted from him, as soon as the Avengers got to him, he was dead. There was just no way any of them would let him even take a single step outside of the Tower ever again without holding his hand. Or at least two Avengers standing guard.

He focused on their anger. Their annoyance and the inevitable fight they would have when Tony wouldn’t be able to take the smothering mothering of them anymore. And the glares. And the annoyance. And possibly their disappointment in him because he really couldn’t go two weeks without proving to the whole fucking world that he really was the weak link in the team. Hell, he couldn’t even be alone for more than an hour before he would be picked off of the street like a fucking daisy. He was just that useless.

It was easier than thinking about Peter who would be devasted because Tony sent him home and then got himself captured because he was stupid.

Steve would feel like he failed Tony because he always felt like he failed his teammates when they got hurt. And as Tony wasn’t enhanced, a god or an assassin, he was just that much more vulnerable. And he had to go and prove him right. Again!

He didn’t think about Bruce who had argued his case. And who would hate himself for it.

He didn’t think about Natasha and Clint who had asked to come along. Who he had shut down.

He didn’t think of Rhodey who still had nightmares about Tony being taken.

He didn’t think of Pepper who would think it was her fault for making him come to Germany.

He didn’t think of Happy who had left him alone and would hate himself for it.

How the hell could he fuck up this badly in just a few hours? How was it possible that everything he tried went to shit? He was Iron Man for fucks sake. He was a genius. He had been kidnapped 49 times, not counting the attempted kidnappings and still he was too fucking stupid to protect himself?

It wouldn’t be a surprise if the Avengers decided he wasn’t worth the trouble and just took War Machine as a replacement.

Rhodey would never stop looking for him though. And he wanted to believe that the Avengers wouldn’t either. They wouldn’t. He was like 97% sure. Still, it was fucking annoying. All of this was.

Sighing, he waited, running calculations all the while. One of the most prominent of his problems was that he had basically no variables whatsoever. He knew that Robo-Man had been waiting for him. He was trained, efficient and to the point. He must have followed him but – and for that Tony would be forever in his debt – hadn’t taken him while Peter was with him. He hadn’t harmed his kid. He hadn’t killed Happy.

But he had killed his German driver without so much as a blink of his eye. There had been no remorse, no hesitation in his eyes. Everything else of his face had been hidden behind a mask.

He also knew that they had cut out most if not all of his trackers. So, they most likely had learned from other times Tony had been kidnapped. The towels around his hands were another indication for that.

As he was a little hungry and thirsty but not terribly so, he was fairly certain he hadn’t been out for more than a couple hours. That meant Pepper and the Avengers knew what happened by now. They probably knew more than he himself.

There was a slight possibility that his hosts had already sent a demand to most likely SI or the Avengers. But Tony doubted it. Those demands were more convincing when the hostage was conscious – and beat up.

That would most likely happen in the next couple of hours. If they wanted something from SI or the Avengers. If they wanted Tony to build them something, judging by their assumed knowledge about himself, they would either ignore him for a long time, driving him mad over time, torture him for some days before giving him the option for it to stop or threaten him.

There were few things that would make Tony consider to build something. Two were hopefully right now in a plane to New York.

Five other reasons were in New York, probably biting through a table top because _Tony we told you that you’re absolutely useless and need to be babysat 24/7_.

One was somewhere in the Middle East, hopefully as safe as he could be.

One was somewhere in Düsseldorf. Probably in a police station. She would have been the easiest target. The closest. Pepper on her own was a desirable target. She had money, power and a direct connection to Tony and through him to the Avengers.

There were things Tony wouldn’t do. Couldn’t do. Even if it killed him. Even if it killed those people he would burn the world down for. He’d kill himself before they could make him. He would…

As long as he didn’t know that any of them were here, he wouldn’t think about it. There were enough unpleasant possibilities just with him here. Like he was taken for revenge. (In that case having others here to torture them to torture Tony would still be their best bet.) They could do a shit ton of things to make his life hell. Like waterboarding, electrocution, cutting him open and putting salt in his wounds, starve him, beat him with or without tools and that were only the first few physical ideas. There was so much more they could do, especially if they knew more about him and/or had drugs at hand.

Not that Tony would make it easy for them. By now he had been subjected to most of it and had learned to deal. Oh, and his pain tolerance was rather high.

In conclusion: He had no clue but a lot of ideas. He was sure it was an unplastered stone wall behind him so he was probably in a basement. Or a castle. Because Europe was just full of them and after the island incident nothing would surprise him anymore.

How ironic would it be if he, the man normally wearing a shining armour, would be saved by Pepper from a beast keeping him hidden in a castle? Pep would love it. Hell, he would love it. Mostly because it would mean he got out of here – and because if he had to be rescued, Pepper would be one of the least embarrassing options.

He shifted on his feet, trying to move as unrecognizable as possible. He didn’t see any sign of a camera, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one.

First rule of kidnappings: Don’t show them your pain. Don’t show them your fear.

He had learned those lessons with blood.

Sighing, he started to think of new angles of his situation. The radio signal had cut out a minute before they saw Robo-Man. He had probably scrambled the signal and that meant that Jarvis had probably been cut out of everything. Tony sighed again, biting down on his tongue. He had _known_ that he should have put his foot down and kept working after updating his phone. He should have ignored Steve’s puppy dog eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that were the colour of a bright blue summer sky.

This got embarrassing pretty fast. Moving on.

He hadn’t seen much of the arm of his attacker, but judging by the way it had felt just like a human hand choking him, his grip hard and precise he would have loved to get his hands on it. There was beauty in such an amazingly crafted machine – even if it stopped his air.

That was mostly what Tony had told himself when he had been the Merchant of Death. That there was beauty in all designs. In all machines. Sometimes he had believed it. Sometimes he had drunk more.

That arm though, it could be used for good. If he got inside of it, he could improve SI’s protheses program.

But first things first: He had to find out where he was, why exactly he was here, who had taken him and how to get out. (That was rule two of kidnappings.)

It took some more hours in which Tony lost himself in his thoughts, forcing himself to focus on work related questions.

Rule three was simple: Keep calm. That’s what he was working on. Not thinking about what Peter, Pepper, Steve and everyone else was going through right now. He knew that the uncertainty was the worst – staring in the darkness he wholeheartedly agreed – and that his team – his family – didn’t know what they were doing to him. They couldn’t know that he was fine. If he was in their shoes… No, he was thankful he had been taken. Better him than anyone else.

He wished he had drunk a coffee in the restaurant. Why hadn’t he?

Staring in the darkness, Tony thought about the ice Steve had been trapped in. Here he was almost comfortable. It didn’t remind him of a cave. Not at all. Not even a little bit. Because the air smelled different. So very different. Absolutely. And the stone pressing against his back and arms wasn’t as rough as a cave wall. Nope. Just some castle loving asshole.

Boredom would kill him. Tony knew it. It would. Not directly but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut. Not that he would be able to otherwise.

It felt like an eternity before he heard the scrape of metal against metal. He noted that he hadn’t heard any footsteps. Thick walls. So, it might actually be a castle! Although he had learned years ago that Europe, especially old houses, were built to withstand time and therefore the foundations were often so steady and thick, they were basically sound proof.

The door opened and bright electrical light flooded his cell, momentarily blinding Tony. He kept his eyes closed for a moment. He would look at them when he wouldn’t be a blinking mess. He wasn’t worried. Therefor there was no need for him to try to expose his eyes to the light before they were ready.

“Holt ihn runter.”

 _Get him down_. Tony approved. It was time to start with whatever would happen. He was sick of waiting. Learning German really had been a good idea!

He opened his eyes to see two man, broad, muscled, one blond, one brunette, stepping towards him, reaching for his shackled hands. Looking over their shoulders and ignoring their rough handling, he stared at the man in the doorway. He was slimmer than the two grunts, a haughty expression and a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Fuck.

As soon as the muscle of the operation got him down he was escorted through a narrow hallway, obviously a long basement, boring electrical lamps, unmarked doors on either side. Nothing to give him any hints. Glancing back, he saw the pleased smile on the leader’s lips. Having Tony here was obviously what he wanted. That meant either that he didn’t know how uncooperative Tony could be, or – more likely – he didn’t need his cooperation to get what he wanted. So, either revenge or ransom.

Great.

The blond grunt opened the last door to their right, pushing Tony hard enough that he fell. As his hands were handcuffed on his back, he hit the stone hard, releasing a hissing breath. Sitting up, he looked at the boss, sauntering into the room with relaxed boredom. Most of it wasn’t even faked.

“Mr. Stark.” The man said in a pleasant voice, but nothing would ever make the curl of his lips anything but disgusting.

“Mr. Kidnapper.” Tony smiled his media smile at him, showing teeth and pointedly ignored the roughness of his voice and how sore his throat was.

“I’m not sure what you remember, but your driver is dead.” He had a German accent but was obviously used to speak English. As very few people knew how many languages Tony spoke, he wasn’t surprised they didn’t know he spoke German – even if he probably wouldn’t be as good as his kidnapper was in English. Tony preferred other languages like – but that wasn’t important right now.

“I remember.” The man had been pleasant enough. Calm and not talking much. He hadn’t deserved to die just because he got the short straw and had to meet Tony fucking Stark.

“I’m sure Mr. Hogan was well compensated before his death.”

Tony froze.

The kidnapper’s smile grew. “Ah yes, we know quite a lot about you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony bit back the comment that the whole world thought they knew a lot about him. He also didn’t say that Happy hadn’t been the driver. Whether or not the attacker was part of them – whoever _them_ was – he hadn’t said anything. But why? Did he have scruple to kill a kid? Didn’t he want to admit to waiting for Peter to leave before kidnapping Tony? Would they find out about it? They probably would – the question was _when_ they would find out and whether or not his attacker was still here and might be persuaded to get both of them out.

(That would have the added bonus that if he got himself out of that situation the Avengers would have at least agree that he wasn’t totally useless.)

Instead, he visibly composed himself (for show) and smiled back at the kidnapper. “I’m flattered, I am. Who are you again?”

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mr. Stark. You don’t know me.”

He wasn’t the boasting kind. Well, Tony could change that.

“I fear we will have to cut our chat short this time. We have a phone call in a bit and my colleagues will get you ready for it.” He smiled once again at Tony, nodded at the grunts and left the room.

They did get him ready. When they were done one of his eyes were swollen shut, breathing hurt, even if he was sure they hadn’t broken a rip. He would have bet he had a concussion and if he didn’t know better he would believe anyone if they told him he had been run other by a car. Twice.

It wasn’t in the top ten of his worst beatings but this was just for show anyway. He felt blood trickle down his face, felt it dampen his once pristine white shirt and bit back a sigh. This was going to be a theatrical disaster.

Grabbing him by the arms, the henchmen dragged him out of the room. Tony let himself slump on purpose. Rule four: The sooner you appear to be badly injured, the sooner the assholes will start underestimating you.

They forced him up a flight of stairs and pushed him into a parlour that would have looked oddly appropriate in a movie about the 19th century – including the posh asshole sitting on an almost throne like chair. This was going to suck.

Tony wasn’t in the least surprised when he was pushed down to his knees beside the fucking chair of power – which put him stage and centre for the camera. Perfect. He glared up at it. He didn’t change his expression when he saw his attacker behind it. He stood right beside a screen. His ice blue eyes were on him, a glint of curiosity in them. He was as muscled and only a little smaller than Steve, his face almost hidden behind a black mask. There were enough weapons out in the open of his black suit, Tony really would have loved to find out how many weapons he could store on himself. And while he was at it, he would accidently look at that _gorgeous_ piece of mechanical engineering. Not that he couldn’t do better. He knew that he could do better. Still, it was amazing to see the brilliant work of others.

“You remember the Winter Soldier?”

Tony looked back at the asshole-wanna-be-king and raised an eyebrow. “I know I get kidnapped more than the ordinary Joe, but yeah, I remember a Cyborg kidnapping me.”

There was a smile, even nastier than his already disgusting one, flashing over his features, before he leaned back. “I’ll ask you to refrain to speak to your teammates during the call.”

Tony grinned up at him. The only reason he hadn’t risen yet where the two guns trained on him. There was no point in aggravating them more than absolutely necessary – aside from his personal preferences.

“We’ll see.”

The other man’s lip widened at that. It was a challenge and a promise. He wanted Tony to interfere. Probably so he could dish out ‘deserved punishments’. There was literally no other reason to not gag him. Hell, most people he came in contact with in perfectly ordinary settings wanted to gag him.

But even knowing that it was a set up wouldn’t change anything. Not only that Tony wouldn’t be able to keep quiet if he actually wanted to – and he didn’t – _if_ he kept silent his team would believe he was worse injured, or drugged, or in shock or something else nasty. Whenever he would speak, they would punish him and through that they would be torturing the people watching and unable to do anything.

The asshole, because that was what he was, looked towards Tony’s attacker and nodded. Tony followed his gaze, settling on the screen. The most frustrating thing was – aside from the nagging feeling he should know the name of the assassin, because judging by his clothes, weapon and way of moving that’s what he was – that there was nothing Tony could tell them. He was sure they hadn’t moved him too far. He had been unconscious for just a few hours. But that didn’t give him much clues where he actually was. Hell, he could be in the Netherlands, Belgium or Luxemburg for all he knew. He could be in France. Or still be in Germany.

He had no valuable information whatsoever – aside from the hesitation of the Winter Soldier, which he couldn’t say here because if it wasn’t a ploy he had to try to use it later on – which also meant that neither Peter nor Happy could be mentioned.

The attacker stepped forward, opening a Laptop connected to the set up in front of them. Tony was too smart to try to dash to the piece of technology. He wanted to, god did he want to, but there was no way that would result in anything else than more bruises, cuts and a worse concussion.

The program they used for the call was one Tony had come across a few times in theory in the dark web. That actually could be an obstacle for Jarvis. Not that Tony doubted his son, he would find him, but if they were good, it would take time. Shit.

Seconds later the call connected. The screen showed the conference room that Tony had built especially for the Avengers to debrief. Since then they had only used it a couple of times because most debriefs were either in medical or on the couch in the common room. They only used it for official business – like when Fury came over to berate them. And Jarvis had stopped permitting him entry.

Or, apparently, for receiving calls from kidnappers. Yeay.

Only Steve, Natasha and Clint were there. Tony wasn’t surprised. As he wasn’t surprised that the spies flanked their Captain, their faces cold and emotionless where Steve couldn’t hide his fury. His dread.

It was only a couple hours, barely more than a day since he had seen him – them. They all looked worse for wear. There were signs of exhaustion, of stress. Their expressions darkening even more when they saw Tony, kneeling beside a throne, two guns to his head.

Natasha’s reaction was barely visible but for her – Tony knew – it was almost a breakdown. The slight narrowing of her eyes, the minimal twitch of her hand. He had learned to read her eyes – not very successfully, obviously, but that expression? She was pissed. Probably murderously so.

Clint stood tall, a parody of a parade rest, his face in a way relaxed that suited a serial killer who knew that whatever their victim did, it wouldn’t get away from him. He didn’t twitch – not even his fingers that were _never_ motionless when he wasn’t concentrating and on the job. His eyes were stormy, the same glint in them as Natasha’s.

Steve was the worst. He had schooled his face in a mask that held back most of what he felt, but his eyes were bleeding all the emotions. There was fury, rage, so many more and the worst of it: fear.

Tony held back the reassurance that was already on his lips. He was fine. This wasn’t Steve’s fault. (As the island incident hadn’t been his fault no matter that he still believed it.) It looked so much worse than it was.

He didn’t. Most people knew by now that Iron Man and Captain America were friends. In some corners of the internet – never go on tumblr or ao3 if you’re not prepared to pay the price with your sanity – their ‘bromance’ was celebrated like the second coming or some bullshit. But most people still believed Tony was just tolerated by the others – a notion Tony understood perfectly.

The important part in all of this was that he couldn’t show anything more than the logical attachment between teammates. Everything else would put all of them – namely Steve – in danger. And Tony couldn’t have that. He knew that Nat would have prepared Steve, told him what to say, what to expect. That, of course, wouldn’t mean anything if Cap snapped.

Steve looked like there was only a single threat left.

And it was Tony’s fault.

“Captain Rogers. A pleasure.” The asshole beside him greeted in a pleasant voice.

None of them reacted. Tony approved. He could literally feel their gazes burn down on him. Hell, he wasn’t happy with this either! They could stop glaring.

“I have a rather simple request for you.” Kidnapper-wanna-be-king-dude waited for a dramatic pause and Tony almost rolled his eyes. Wait, why would he hold it back?

Tony rolled his eyes.

The blond grunt must have seen it because he pressed the muzzle of the gun to his temple, nudging it with a pang.

“You are not going to try to rescue Mr. Stark. If we even get the smallest indication that you’re not following this request, Mr. Stark will be killed.”

“Oh, come on!” Tony huffed annoyed. That was a clear setup for failure. If they wanted to kill him they should just shoot him for crying out loud!

For his trouble he was struck with the handle of the gun of the dark-haired minion. It jostled him, making him bite down hard to not let any sound slip out – but it wasn’t meant to hurt or incapacitate him.

Tony looked up at the screen again, looking at his teammates. Nat and Clint had barely reacted. Steve was balling his fists and Tony knew if he was in this room, he would have gone on a rampage. Captain America might prefer peace, but he wasn’t above using violence. He disliked killing but he would. Without regret if it meant he could keep his own safe. And he counted Tony as one of his own. Wasn’t that humbling?

“We talked about it, Mr. Stark.” The asshole reminded him in a voice you would use on a petulant child.

“We will not let one of our own-” Before Cap could finish his sentence, there was a movement Tony barely saw out of the corner of his eye. The Winter Soldier, faster than even Nat, grabbed a gun from his side and pulled the trigger.

Hot searing pain pierced Tony’s shoulder and he gasped – mostly in surprise. He had been shot before and it always sucked. This wouldn’t be different – and it wasn’t. He slumped forward, gritting his teeth to keep any other sound to himself. He wouldn’t give the asshole the satisfaction. He wouldn’t torture Steve more than he already had. He wouldn’t _let them_ use him against Steve. Not again.

As soon as he had forced a relaxed mask back on his face, he looked up at the camera and smiled. This was nothing. He had had open heart surgery without drugs. He was golden. He didn’t say a word, but he tried to convey all of that in one look. Natasha would read it. She knew. Clint would realize it. Both could tell Steve.

Not that Steve would believe them when they told him. Not that it would stop the soldier from berating himself because he thought he had to carry the world on his shoulders. This wasn’t his fault. Hell, most of the things he was feeling guilty for wasn’t his fault (and yes, Tony could see the irony in that – but didn’t appreciate it. And regardless he had been the Merchant of Death so it wasn’t the same. He really was guilty! And right now? Yeah this was his fucking fault).

“I’m afraid our threats aren’t empty, Captain.”

Tony kept his eyes on the camera. He wouldn’t look at the screen behind it. He didn’t want to see the blue eyes. He didn’t want to see-

“What does it say about ‘Earth Mightiest Heroes’ if you can’t even keep one of your own safe?”

Tony’s head twitched towards the Asshole – yes, he had earned the big A just by that – growling at him. This was his fault. His inability to do anything right and not-

“One could ask themselves why anyone should trust in _you_.”

“Shut up!” Tony growled, the thread loud and clear in his voice.

He didn’t react to the kick to his back. It jostled him, sure, the wounds flaring up, but it didn’t matter.

“Don’t listen to him Cap! It’s not you-” at that moment a hand wrapped around his throat, pressing down hard and unrelenting. Even if blonde dude wasn’t as efficient as Robo-Man it was enough to silence Tony.

“Stop!” There was a pleading edge in Steve’s voice and Tony wanted to reassure him. Wanted to calm him and to promise that he was fine. This was nothing. He had had so much worse. He shouldn’t worry about Tony. All he managed was a wheezing splutter.

“The next bullet will go through one of his hands.” The Asshole said, still pleasant and relaxed. “He will of course work for us whether or not he is injured.”

The blond shoved Tony back and he fell, hitting the ground with his newly shot shoulder.

“Asshole.” He hissed, biting back anything else when a combat boot connected with his bruised rip.

He could take it. He could take more, but judging by the eerie silence, Steve couldn’t. Tony didn’t care what they did to him. But he cared a ridiculous amount what it would do to Steve.

Looking up, he ignored the expression of the super soldier, stony, battle ready and in control and saw the glimpses of desperate pain, of furious hatred and fearful panic in his eyes.

“I’m fine.”

Another kick and he couldn’t bite back the hiss when it jostled his shoulder.

“How long?” Steve asked, his voice void of everything Tony associated with the witty marshmallow of a human.

The Winter Soldier cut the connection.

Tony didn’t need to look up to know the Asshole was smiling happily.

The worst of it? Tony still didn’t know what the fuck was going on! Because this? All of this? It didn’t make god damn sense!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments! They really mean the world to me.


	4. Steve: Proof of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peter have a talk and the Avengers get a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Do you remember when I started this as a crack fic based nonsense that was never intended to be more than just goofy silliness and happiness? Me neither. Back to this cluster fuck. 
> 
> I took the time (almost 4 hours) to plot this story and decided on 25 chapters. I'll try my best.
> 
> Oh and I know a lot of you will laugh at that: I’m getting sick of the slow burn myself :) 
> 
> Have fun!

“Peter…” Steve began, trying his best to appear calm and composed. They had both taken him and Happy back to the Tower. On the drive no one had said a word.

Peter hadn’t cried. Instead he had looked out of the car, obviously not seeing anything.

Right now, Clint was in the common living room with Happy, who had gone stone faced, before his eyes had snapped to Peter. For a second Steve had feared that he could accuse the kid for this. It was his fault Happy wasn’t with Tony. Instead he had stepped closer, placing his hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezing it tightly.

Steve had wanted to take Peter to his floor, somewhere safe that wouldn’t remind him of Tony. Instead Peter had asked for the workshop. Jarvis had complied. They were now sitting on the floor, Dummy petting Peter who was whining in a way Steve knew that he was distressed.

“I think we were watched.” Peter’s voice was barely more than an exhale. Without his super soldier hearing Steve was sure he wouldn’t have caught it.

“What did you notice?” Steve leaned forward clamping down on his need to shake the answers out of the kid. The sooner they knew, the sooner they could get to Germany and- But he wouldn’t. This was Tony’s son. He was in shock, he was in pain and Tony would never forgive Steve if he was anything but perfect with him.

He also didn’t want to make him feel any worse.

“Just a feeling. It was faint. Nothing…” He stopped, bowing his head before he squared his shoulders in a way that reminded Steve painfully of Tony. When Peter looked up again there was fire in his eyes, hatred, despair and guilt.

“It wasn’t obvious and I thought it was because of the new country. Because I didn’t understand the people. Because it was in the middle of the night.” More pain slipped onto his young face. “I was wrong.”

Steve thought this admission would rip him apart. He knew that guilt. He knew how it felt to fail someone you loved as your family. But it wasn’t Peter’s fault! It could never be his fault.

“I’m sorry.” The waver in those words were worse.

Not being able to stop himself, Steve leaned forward and hugged Peter to his chest. At first the kid stiffened as if he expected an attack. As if he thought he deserved it. Steve hated himself for it.

Cupping the back of his head like he had seen Tony do so many times, he pressed Peter closer to himself. Tony would never betray anything to anyone Peter wasn’t comfortable sharing, but Steve had observed. The kid needed physical contact like Steve needed it. Whenever something happened Tony would hold him, grab his shoulder, be there. Right now, Peter needed it more than anything and Tony wasn’t here.

But Steve was and Tony had asked him to-

“It wasn’t your fault.” He whispered, feeling the kid shudder in his arms. “It wasn’t. Tony will tell you that when we get him back, too.”

Hot wetness soaked through his shirt. The shudders of the small body in his arms grew more pronounced even if there was still no sound.

Steve rocked them both a little, trying to quench down on his _need_ to ask more questions, to learn more, to get any information, to try to plan and focused at his task at hand – something he wasn’t equipped to. Something he would probably botch up and then Peter would hate him and then Tony would hate him. It was hard to care about it if it meant that Tony would be safe.

Minutes later, Peter pushed himself back, looking up at Steve with red rimmed and puffy eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” Steve repeated, his voice calm. Like Nat, he had his persona full front. Peter would probably notice. He couldn’t care. Captain America was keeping the broken shell of Steve Rogers together.

Peter didn’t answer. He looked to the side, reaching for Dummy. “It was just a feeling. I didn’t see anything. I didn’t hear anything.”

“Okay.”

“But… They must have been there, right?” He looked back up at Steve with such devastation he almost choked on it.

“Why didn’t they take us all?” His voice was small, wavering.

“We don’t know, Peter. But it’s a good sign.” At least they couldn’t use him against Tony.

“I-”

“All Tony wants is to keep you safe.” Steve interrupted Peter, trying for soothing.

There was a mutinous expression on Peter’s face but Steve didn’t give him the opportunity to say anything. “Do you remember anything else?”

Still glaring at him Peter shook his head.

“Good.” Steve pushed himself up, forcing his movements to be as calm as he could make them. “Someone will-”

“Mr. Hogan will take Peter and his aunt to a safe location.” Jarvis interrupted smoothly. His voice was still off.

“What? No! I want to help!”

Steve looked back at him. He had no idea what to tell him that wouldn’t be orders. Or screams. He had no idea how-

“No.”

Steve turned, his body already angling to get between the newcomer – who his brain recognized as Happy Hogan a second later – and Tony’s kid.

“Happy-”

“Tony made contingency plans for you and your aunt.” The man said gruffly. “Jarvis has already set everything in motion.”

“Of course.” The AI answered shortly. “Mr. Parker.” His voice changed and he almost sounded like himself again if there still was an edge to it. “Sir, has made a protocol that we have to follow. You will take your suit with you as well as the communication device Sir has given to you. I will inform you of everything important.”

“I can help.” It was more a whine, a desperate plea than a demand. Tears were back in the boy’s eyes.

“You will,” Jarvis promised, warmth and sadness in his voice. How had Tony been able to create a being with such compassion and was still able to believe he was-

“Sir has protocols for all of us. Even the Avengers. Your safety is his first priority. Only after we know you are secure are we allowed to rescue Sir.”

“No…” Peter pleaded with the AI. “I can-”

“And you will help, Peter. But right now, we have to follow Sir’s orders.”

“Come on.” Happy ushered Peter out of the workshop, one hand on his shoulder, but before they were out the door, Peter turned towards Steve.

“You let me know when… when I can help.”

It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t a demand. It was hope and fear and dread and terror.

“Yes. Jarvis and I will let you know.” They would. Eventually.

When the door of the workshop closed between them, Steve closed his eyes for exactly three seconds. Breakdown. Wallowing. Rebuilding. Captain America opened his eyes.

“You will keep him safe?”

“Of course.” The AI replied. “I will-” He stopped for a millisecond before his voice got a new urgency to it. “The Avengers just received an email. The kidnappers will call in 15 minutes.”

That was a good sign. It would give them proof. Of life. Because Tony was alive.

Still his stomach became a bottomless pit, dread and fear curling tighter around his lungs, constricting his breathing in a way he had thought he would never feel again.

Steve followed Jarvis’ instructions and took the stairs to get to the Avengers conference room. He was breathing heavily and didn’t know if it was because of the numerous flights of stairs or his new inability to breath.

The Black Widow, Hawkeye and Bruce were standing before the table, arguing when Steve entered.

“We need to show a united front.” Hawkeye pressed, his voice filled with a coldness that no one would associated with the happy-go-lucky archer.

“If I’m here when… I will not be able to stay _calm_.” Bruce hissed, a growl of the Hulk accompanying the man’s voice. He was barely containing him as it was. His normally soft brown eyes were acidly green.

“Go.” Steve stepped aside, indicating the door behind him. “Calm down. We’ll leave as soon as we’re done here.”

Bruce slashed a glance at him that was hard and cutting. His hands trembled and it took him visible effort to not react. To move. To leave. But he did.

He glanced at the clock. Eleven minutes.

“We have to prepare.” The Black Widow said in a voice Steve hadn’t heard from her. She kept her eyes on him, assessing.

“For what.”

“How many hostage negotiations did you lead?”

Steve felt anger curl in his stomach. None. She knew it was none. They hadn’t had that many kidnappings in the last year and before that he had been in a war.

“They will use certain tactics to show their dominance.”

They would beat Tony on camera. They wouldn’t show him at all. They would show an unconscious body. They would show his bloodied clothes. They would-

“Most likely they have roughed him up.” Her voice was hard and factual, her eyes cold. She was doing her job. She was in control when Steve was barely able to keep listening. To not spiralling out of control.

“They will…” The hesitation wasn’t longer than a heartbeat, but for the Black Widow it was a huge lapse. “ensure we know how far they’re willing to go. There is a big probability they will hurt him.” Her eyes stayed on him as if she dared him to say anything.

“We can’t react to it.”

Furious anger and devasted helplessness tried to drown out the fact that Steve _knew_ Nat did all of this to prepare him. She wanted Tony back too. She would do anything to keep the team safe and right now that meant making sure her Captain didn’t fuck this up.

Still, he couldn’t hold back the growl. It was better than the whimper still stuck in his throat.

“We cannot react to it, Steve.” She stepped closer, a hint, barely visible, of desperation in her eyes. “If they know how much… They will use it against us. They will hurt him more.” She grabbed his wrist, a slender hand that pressed down with a strength she shouldn’t be able to possess. “We cannot react, Steve.”

He nodded. Once. Hard. Hating everything about it.

“They will want to talk to you. They send it to the Avengers headquarters email address stating they would tell us about our missing Iron Man.”

Tell. Not negotiate. Iron Man. Not Tony Stark.

“Were there any-”

“No.” Her eyes, much more human than Hulks showed the same rage as the behemoth. Even if, at the moment, it was still a quiet rage.

No specifics. Nothing to guess what they actually wanted.

“It’s too complicated for money.” Clint said. There was no movement about him, no humour. “And Stark Industries wouldn’t pay anyway.”

Steve knew that policy. He hated that policy. It was the best strategy. Everyone knew it. Whenever Tony had been kidnapped the same message would be issued. There would be no ransom money. They never paid. It kept all employees safe. Steve knew that. He still hated it with all his being.

If push came to shove and they wanted money, however unlikely it was, Steve would get them money. And then he would destroy them.

But Clint was right, it really was too complicated for money. If they wanted Tony to just built something they wouldn’t contact them. If they wanted revenge on Tony they wouldn’t-

“Revenge?”

The double look of hidden dread and fury was all the answer he needed and never wanted. Someone had taken Tony because of them. They had taken Tony because they wanted to hurt the Avengers. Whoever they were had to know that Tony was the heart of the Avengers. They would move heaven and hell for each member, no questions asked. But Tony… he was special. Not only to Steve. He was the one that had united them. He was the one that would find a solution or annoy all of them long enough until they found one.

He was the one that would have been able to keep his cool. He would know how to react and play the kidnappers. He would be the one that would be able to calm all of them. He would lay a hand on Bruce’s shoulder and Hulk would calm. He would exchange quips with Clint and he would calm. He would be able to rival Nat in her inquiries no matter where on the planet they needed information and calm her with the knowledge that they were working together on the problem.

He would look at Steve and maybe even smile and Steve would _know_ it would work out.

They couldn’t know that, could they? The media most often portrayed Tony in a light all of them hated, but Tony didn’t care. They tried to correct it whenever they were asked, but that had backfired spectacularly in the past and they tried to be more careful about it.

Had someone realized what Tony meant to them?

Steve blinked, forcing himself to stay in the moment. They didn’t know. All of this was guesswork. Granting, the Black Widow and Hawkeye were good at that. Steve was good at plans. But they didn’t know.

He glanced at the clock. Two minutes.

“Breathe, Steve. We need to be in control. Don’t react. Focus on the facts. That’s how we will get Tony back. Focus on the details.” She didn’t say _Don’t look at what they did to Tony_. But he heard it nonetheless.

“Jarvis.” Clint said. At once a screen lowered, blank.

30 seconds.

“He is more valuable alive.”

20 seconds.

Nat looked at him and then at Clint. They stood to either of his sides, flanking him.

10 seconds.

They would get Tony. They needed to be calm. _He_ needed to be calm. To focus. He needed to-

They didn’t call.

10 seconds.

Steve balled his fists and forced himself to lose the grip again.

20 seconds.

This was just a tactic. He knew it was a tactic. Make your enemy sweat. It was just psychological warfare.

30 seconds.

This didn’t mean anything. Just that they knew what to do. That was good. It meant they had a goal. One they needed Tony for. Alive. It was-

40 seconds.

Steve twitched.

“They’ll call.” The Black Widow stated. As if she could do anything if they didn’t. She couldn’t. None of them could! They were absolutely helpless! Tony had been taken thirteen hours ago. They could be all over Europe by now. Hell, they could be on another continent altogether!

They waited for six more minutes. Steve breathed. He didn’t think. He couldn’t.

A call symbol appeared on the black screen and for a heartbeat Steve didn’t know what to do.

“Jarvis.” Was all he could press out of his lungs, desperate to see Tony. Panicked what he would see.

The way the scene was staged, and there was no other way to describe it, their eyes landed on Tony first. He was kneeling beside a chair that could have been a throne in a room Steve would have loved to appreciate. He didn’t even see it. He would later realize the art in everything, the quality of the furniture and the structure of the room that screamed old money. He would see all of that on the eighth viewing.

Right now, all he could see was Tony. Kneeling beside his kidnapper. His white shirt was sprinkled and, in some places, drenched with red. One of his eyes were almost swollen shut. He had a split lip and blood still trickled down from his temple.

Tony looked right at the camera, his expression relaxed and calm in a way that made all of this so much worse. He had obviously expected this. He had done this so often that he didn’t even seem to care anymore.

“Captain Rogers. A pleasure.” The man on the throne said, a faint German accent in his voice. Steve barely saw him, his eyes still glued to Tony’s whiskey coloured ones. They were calm, as if he wanted to calm Steve. As if he wanted to tell Steve everything was going to be okay. He was kidnapped, hurt and in real danger and he was comforting Steve? How could he even care? This was Steve’s fault! It was the Avenger’s fault! They should have been there! They should have protected him!

“I have a rather simple request for you.” The kidnapper said and paused. Maybe he wanted Steve to say something. To ask a question, but Steve didn’t know what. His focus was on Tony. Who bled. What if he had a concussion? What if he had more wounds? Internal bleeding or-

Tony rolled his eyes at the Kidnapper. For a heartbeat Steve wanted to smile, it was such a Tony thing to do. Whatever they had already done to him, he was mentally okay. He was fighting and-

A blond man stepped closer and in the frame of the camera, pushing the muzzle of the handgun hard against Tony’s head. Tony didn’t react. He had known he was there. He didn’t care. Tony didn’t care and that would kill him and Steve couldn’t-

“You are not going to rescue Mr. Stark. If we even get the smallest indication that you’re not following this request, Mr. Stark will be killed.”

Steve’s heart stopped. Not because he hadn’t expected that. Of course, they wouldn’t invite them to look for Tony. Of course, they would threaten his life. Of course, they would say that. But if that was their only request… What did they want from Tony? Did they want to hurt him? Did they want to watch the Avengers lose it? Did they want to-

“Oh, come on!” Tony growled annoyed, his eyes leaving the camera and glancing towards his kidnapper.

Before Steve could say anything – there was nothing he could do. Nothing at all. – another man stepped into view, brown haired, with almost military dark clothes like the other one and struck Tony hard with the handle of a gun to his shoulder. It jostled the genius frame and Steve saw the way Tony bit down to keep quiet.

He was probably badly hurt and he tried to hide it. He wanted to spare them. Steve wanted to scream. He wanted to rage. He wanted to reach through the screen and exchange their positions. Anything to get him out of there.

Tony looked back at the camera and it struck Steve how much compassion there was in the genius’ eyes. Holding up a sign with big bold red letters telling the world that he was fine would have been unobtrusive in comparison. His eyes were full of life, full of conviction and levity.

Steve knew it was a lie. A lie Tony tried to sell them to make them feel better while he was literally beaten in front of their eyes.

“We talked about it, Mr. Stark.” The kidnapper addressed Tony in a way an arrogant adult would talk to an annoying child.

And he was talking like that to Steve’s Tony.

“We will not let one of our own-” Steve began. He didn’t know what he would have said if he had had the chance to continue. He felt the bones in his hands shift. All he wanted was to wipe the blood from Tony’s face and hold him tight.

A shot rang loud and clear and before Steve could even feel the fear, Tony slumped forward, gasping. His whole body shuttered and for a cruel minute Steve was sure he had got Tony killed. He had opened his stupid mouth and Tony had been killed because he couldn’t listen to Natasha when she tried to tell him what to do.

His heartbeat was in his throat and he barely registered the movements to either of his sides. What would the team do if he just killed Tony? Nothing would be worse than what he would do to himself. Oh god, what would Peter do?

Tony shuddered again. And pushed himself backwards. Blood was spilling freely from his left shoulder, dampening everything in his way with a crimson colour. His expression was a relaxed mask. Not even his eyes showed any pain.

Steve had been shot before and he knew how painful it was. Yet Tony looked less than inconvenienced.

“I’m afraid our threats aren’t empty, Captain.”

Yeah. He gathered as much. And Tony was paying the prize. He didn’t look angry. Not even resentful. How could he kneel there and not hate them? Hate Steve?

“What does it say about ‘Earth Mightiest Heroes’ if you can’t even keep one of your own safe?”

The kidnapper was right, of course. The worst part of it? The world would probably declare it Tony’s fault. Even if it wasn’t. He was careful, he always was! This was the fault of the Avengers. It was Steve’s fault.

Tony’s head snapped towards the kidnapper and he growled, low and protective, his eyes hard and filled with fury, as was his posture.

Steve barely heard the next words of the kidnapper over his silent plead for Tony to not anger them. It wasn’t worth it! They were right and it didn’t matter! He had to think of himself! Protect himself!

“One could ask themselves why anyone should trust in _you_.”

“Shut up!” Tony snapped viciously. He didn’t move to stand, but it was enough for the dark-haired man to kick him hard in the back.

Tony barely reacted. Instead he turned towards the camera, towards Steve, his eyes ablaze with conviction, with trust. “Don’t listen to him Cap! It’s not you-”

The blond man stepped closer, grabbing Tony by the throat and pressed down. Tony spluttered, trying to fight the grip and more than anything else it proved to Steve that his injuries were worse than he let on. There was no other reason he would lose to any of them.

He felt the movement of both spies beside him, felt their cold rage and hot desperation and couldn’t take the way the fingers of the underling dug deeper in Tony’s throat. His face turning slowly red.

“Stop!” There was a pleading edge to Steve’s voice he couldn’t suppress. That he didn’t say anything else, that he didn’t fall to his knees to beg was all he could do.

Tony spluttered again but Steve didn’t know if it was in agreement or in protest. Because that was something Tony would do. Protest when Steve was pleading to save his life.

“The next bullet will go through one of his hands.” The kidnapper said smiling and Steve was barely able to keep his stomach down.

“He will of course work for us whether or not he is injured.”

Steve wanted to answer to that. He wanted to threaten, to plead, but he didn’t anything else but look at Tony when the blond man shoved Tony back, releasing his grip on his throat in a way that Tony fell on his newly shot shoulder.

Tony didn’t scream even if he had to be in incredible pain. Instead he gritted his teeth glaring up at the man and hissed a heartfelt “Asshole.”

Steve agreed, but it wasn’t worth the sharp kick to his ribs. The way he flinched they were already hurt and if they broke…

Tony looked up and Steve knew he was looking at his eyes. He smiled. “I’m fine.”

He wasn’t. Even less so when the dark-haired man kicked his injured shoulder. Tony hissed, his eyes closing for a heartbeat in pain before he looked back at Steve, his smile not wavering.

“How long?” Not that the answer mattered. Not that it wouldn’t be a lie anyway. Still. He needed to ask.

The connection went dark.

As if it had burned itself in Steve’s retina the image of Tony, bloody, beaten, _shot_ and still smiling warmly and calming at Steve, at all of them, didn’t fade for a few more seconds. He blinked. That image, he knew, would visit him in his nightmares.

“It wasn’t your fault.” The Black Widows words were cold. Practical.

Hawkeye turned on the spot and left.

“It wasn’t. They would have found another reason to… shoot him.” It was only a slight hesitation. It could have been a scream.

Steve didn’t react. Whether or not they would have found another reason he _had been the reason_ they shot Tony. And they would make him work. That meant no pain medication. Would they tend to it?

It barely mattered because Tony wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t. Steve knew he wouldn’t. He could have begged him on his knees and Tony wouldn’t do it. He didn’t know Steve loved him. He didn’t know Steve couldn’t live without-

Steve bowed his head. He didn’t even believe the team loved him as family half of the time. He didn’t… He had to know that they would find him, right? He had to know…

A warm hand encircled most of his wrist and he looked up in Natasha’s green eyes. They were filled with conviction. He saw strains on her, too. Saw the way she pressed her lips together. Saw the tense set of her shoulders. He could almost feel her _need_ to get moving. To get their genius back.

Holding his gaze, she asked Jarvis if he got anything.

Jarvis hadn’t. The way it was encrypted was used by an infamous hacker that was on the watchlist of basically every government on the planet. Tony had it on his never-ending to-do-list to find out who he was, who he worked for and where he had learned. He hadn’t yet.

“I will try my best.” The AI said in his cold and distant voice. “I will also inform Mr. Parker of the proof of life.”

Steve nodded. He trusted Jarvis to make the right call. He didn’t even know if he could have done it if he wanted to.

Natasha’s eyes were still on Steve. “We are going to get him back, Steve.” There was no room for contradictions. She needed this as much as Steve did. As all of them did.

“Pack you stuff. We leave in 30.” He answered. It was all he got out.

Pushing himself up to his full height, he turned. He was on his floor before he knew that was where he needed to go. Mechanically, he included items he would need. Probably. They didn’t know how long they would be gone. How long Tony-

He sat down on his bed, putting his head in his hand and for one minute he let himself _feel_. The agonizing fear that wanted to drown him. The terrifying horror of seeing Tony beat down and almost complying to people Tony should never be forced to comply to. The cruel panic and knowledge that he wouldn’t keep it up. Tony couldn’t. He wouldn’t. And he wouldn’t care what they did to him. The unspeakable terror of helplessness when _his Tony_ was beaten in front of his eyes and Steve couldn’t do anything to help and protect him. The guilt that he had made it worse.

One minute his heart exploded. One minute he didn’t breathe. One minute that would have killed him if he didn’t have a job to do.

Standing up, he pushed everything away.

They would find Tony. They would get him back.

And they would make them _pay_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm off work right now so I'll try to get more done. We'll see how that will go. 
> 
> As always: all of your comments are appreciated. Seriously! I love them all!
> 
> Oh and if anyone has theories: please let me know :D


	5. Winter: Not Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter makes another decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments! It means the world to me!

“Bring ihn in seine Zelle und verarzte ihn.”

Winter looked at the handler. The man couldn’t hide the small shiver when he met Winter’s eyes. Winter didn’t react.

Turning he grabbed the target’s right arm, dragging him up. He didn’t make a sound. He didn’t fight him. Glancing at the man, his warm brown eyes were on Winter. He wasn’t afraid.

Why? Winter had shot him not five minutes ago. He was told what Winter was and he was dragging him down to the cells. And the target didn’t seem to be worried at all. He followed him almost willingly. The slow pace could be more his injuries than anything else.

Winter pushed the target into his cell and he stumbled slightly.

“Hey, careful with the merchandise.” His tone was playful, even if there was a touch of exhaustion in it.

“Strip.”

The target smiled at him, one corner of his mouth curling higher than the other.

“I do swing that way, but honey, I’m not _that_ easy."

There was an almost playful air about the man. As if he didn’t care. As if he didn’t know what Winter could do.

No one was playful around Winter. No one was playful _with_ Winter.

“Strip.” Winter said again, taking a step forward, scowling.

“And why would I do that?” The target asked. He didn’t cower. He didn’t waver. He didn’t react at all like people reacted to Winter. Especially not when he scowled.

He had to follow orders. Winter had to follow orders. Even handlers had to follow orders.

But the target was different. Not like Winter was different. But different. He wasn’t like the handlers. He wasn’t like other targets. He was… _different_.

“Strip.” He repeated a little more forcefully. Because they had to follow orders. He… He had to follow orders. Winter had decided small things. Things the handlers wouldn’t know, because he wouldn’t tell them. Things they wouldn’t find out. But nothing against an order. He couldn’t.

“Whyyyyyyyy?” The target almost sang with a mocking tone.

People didn’t to that when Winter was around. They didn’t mock. They did what he said and… The target was different. Should… should he just strip him? Should he… explain? If he didn’t treat him the handlers would punish them both.

The target didn’t seem to care. But even if he could accept pain like Winter could, it still was unpleasant. He didn’t want to be punished. He didn’t want the target to be punished.

Winter didn’t ask why he didn’t want that. As he didn’t ask himself why he felt unsteady.

“Strip. Treatment.”

“Why didn’t you say that?” The target smiled at him relaxed. He started to unbutton his shirt. He didn’t ask for help.

Winter observed carefully. He noted every careful movement. Every time he slowed down. Every micro twitch. When he slipped the shirt off his shoulders he flinched, biting down on his lip. But he didn’t make a sound. He threw the shirt to the side looking at Winter.

“Strip.”

“Buttercup, this is all the stripping you will get.” The man still smiled, but there was a hardness in his expression that hadn’t been there before. He would fight Winter on this.

Surprisingly, Winter found he didn’t want to fight the target because of it.

Winter raised an eyebrow and waited.

The target mirrored him.

Minutes slipped by.

The target was still bleeding. If he bled much more there would be consequences, Winter knew. He had been trained in maintaining his body. And maintaining the bodies of others. His complexion was already paler than it had been.

It wouldn’t be a trouble for Winter to grab him, press him to the ground and rip the rest of his clothes off. The target was exhausted and injured. He wouldn’t be able to do anything.

Not that he would have been able to do much if he wasn’t injured. Even if he had more fight in him than anyone else Winter had met.

It would be easy. It would be what his orders implied. To suitably maintain a body Winter needed to see the damage. There was no reason why he shouldn’t do it aside from him not wanting to do it.

“Okay.”

The target’s smile became radiant. “Great! Then get healing, Buttercup.” He gestured at his left shoulder.

Winter felt good. This, he decided, made him happy. There was no reason for it. It didn’t make sense.

The target didn’t react when Winter moved closer. Didn’t react when he put his hands on his shoulder and examined it pragmatically.

The other man didn’t say anything. He didn’t flinch away even when Winter felt the micro twitches. He didn’t hiss or demand that Winter should be more careful. He just let him work.

But it wasn’t because he was frozen in fear. That close Winter could hear his heartbeat and it was calm and steady. A little weaker than it should be, but not worryingly enough just yet to report it.

“Through and through.”

“Funnily enough I noticed.” The target’s voice was a little strained. But Winter had to listen for it.

He was good.

Winter took bandages out of his kit. He had known he would be the one treating the target. No one else here could. The handlers were basically useless. Not that that was an opinion he was allowed to have. Any opinion really. But he had. Like he had just decided to do something-

Winter flinched, his metal hand digging hard into the other man’s injured shoulder.

“Shit.” The target hissed, his brown eyes finding Winter’s and even though there had been pain and annoyance they softened incredibly while looking at Winter. No one did this. Especially not after he hurt them. Not after malfunctioning.

“It’s okay, Buttercup.” The target reached out with his right hand. The movement slow and deliberately.

Winter didn’t react. He couldn’t. His muscles had locked. He was afraid. He wasn’t sure why but the fear was real and cold, constricting his chest.

The warm hand touched his flesh shoulder and squeezed. Not hurting. Warm. Comforting?

“It’s okay. Take a breath, Buttercup, you’re fine.” His voice was warm, calm and sure. Emotions Winter could identify. But they didn’t make sense. Not here. Not with him. Not directed at him.

“Deep inhale, you can do it, come on.” The man urged, his hand pressing down a little harder on his shoulder. Still not hurting.

Winter took a breath.

“Very good. Now out with the air, come on.” The target smiled up at him.

Winter exhaled. And did it again, following the instructions of the other man.

What was happening?

“Very good. Could you let go of my shoulder?” The smaller man asked casually. Not demanding, just asking.

Winter tore his hand back. The target stumbled, a barely audible hiss escaping his lips.

Winter saw the finger shaped bruises already forming. He had hurt the target. And he had… talked to him. Not screaming. Not demanding.

“It’s nothing.” The target moved his shoulder carefully, hissing again.

His hand was still on Winter’s shoulder. Warm. Calm. Reassuring.

“You’re fine. I mean obviously not because you’re working for those assholes, but, whatever you saw? It’s not now.”

Winter squinted his eyes at him. He hadn’t seen anything. There had only been fear. So much of it. And remembered pain.

“It happens to the best of us.” The target patted his shoulder comfortingly. “You good enough to patch me up?”

Winter looked in those brown eyes and didn’t know what to do. The man still wanted Winter to touch him?

“I can do it myself, but it’s going to be a mess and I’m sure you can do a better job.”

Winter was sure he could do a better job, too. He was trained. He was the Asset. He was good in what he did. Whatever some of his handlers said.

Reaching out to the wound he kept his eyes on the target. He just smiled encouragingly up at him.

Winter decided something else: the target was insane. He was fearless and had no common sense whatsoever. He possibly didn’t have anything resembling a self-preservation instinct.

Winter didn’t like it. At all.

He couldn’t say why it would bother him, but he really didn’t like it.

After the bullet wound he cleaned and patched up the cut on his temple and cleaned some other scrapes and cuts.

When he tried to take a look at anything hidden under clothes the target patted Winter’s hands away.

Winter tried again.

The target told him no.

Winter hesitated. He knew what no meant. But it was nothing that had actual meaning. The target looked as if Winter would obey that no. Winter didn’t understand it.

He understood it less when he accepted the targets assurance that he was fine.

That made no sense at all. Decisions, Winter knew, were only valid if handlers made them. Targets didn’t make decisions like Winter didn’t make them. They were irrelevant.

Still he took a step away from the smaller man.

It seemed his smile he received was more important than the order.

It didn’t make any sense at all.


	6. Tony: More Damn Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is put to work. Or they try to use his genius. Same difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I just realized I went over 100k words with the MCU crack fic with the last chapter! I started writing on July 1st 2020 and now, 3 and half months later I'm over 100k. If I had half as much focus in my studies I would be so much better!
> 
> Whelp, what can you do :D
> 
> Enjoy!

The cell door opened just before Tony could do something stupid. He wasn’t entirely sure what it would have been, but he was absolutely positive that it would have been stupid. He was predictable like that.

The Winter Soldier – or Buttercup as Tony called him – was a mixture between the Black Widow on her bad days, Steve on his most clueless and Bruce on his most painful. The mix promised disaster and Tony, as the stable, adult and emotionally well-adjusted person that he was, should turn around and run if he didn’t want to damage him any further. That he was a hostage did make that kinda difficult.

And his blue eyes that were either closed off, confused or so lonely it almost gutted Tony – and that said something.

Just now, Tony was sure the other man had had a panic attack. But he didn’t seem to even know what it was. It had looked to Tony as if it was a new experience for the giant of a man. His eyes had been full of terror, his expression a blank mask.

He had almost fractured Tony’s collarbone, but Tony hadn’t cared when he had realized how lost the other man had been in his panic.

How could an assassin, because that was what he was, Tony was sure of it, look like a tortured puppy? However, it was possible and Buttercup had managed it. And Tony, because he was a fucking Sucker™, wanted to help his kidnapper that had just shot him.

Tony knew of course, that he was unstable and kinda had a problem with trusting the wrong people. And picking up strays. And with people and feelings in general. So, he really shouldn’t think that. It couldn’t be Stockholm because that would have been way to fast and Tony was fucking experienced with kidnappings. Why the hell took he one look at this assassin-puppy and wanted to wrap him up in blankets and make sure he was safe?

He was still kidnapped for fuck’s sake! (But he was almost sure that so was Buttercup. He wasn’t a hostage like Tony but everything about him screamed brainwashing. And he didn’t mean the a-very-convincing-person-told-me-some-lies-and-now-I-believe-him-thing sects and cult leaders liked to do. He meant the full-blown-supervillain-brain-surgery kind of brainwashing. Like with actual soap – or more likely acid.)

Tony didn’t know much of it. It involved people and even worse psychology so, no, thank you. But he had assisted Dr. Helen Cho on a project two years ago with tech in which she discovered – by accident – how you could break the brain effectively without killing the body. That part of the study wasn’t published, of course, but Tony couldn’t forget it. He still read her papers on the matter. Since then he knew way too much about brainwashing. And how it was achieved in its victims. (He also had been put through some courses by Howard to realize the techniques for whenever he would be kidnapped again. Howard was caring like that.)

To get to the point (while the other two minions dragged him out of the cell) Buttercup was brainwashed. Tony was about 85% sure. That made some things a lot easier. It meant he was a victim too and it was Tony’s responsibility to safe him (and not just him losing his goddamn mind).

It also made it a lot more complicated because if Tony used any kind of persuasion he wasn’t much better than those assholes that had done this to him. Also, he would need someone stable to help him and the most stable Tony knew was Pepper – and she tried to kill him with his stilettos at least once a month. In other words, Tony didn’t even _know_ what a stable person looked like! He would break the last remnants of Buttercup’s mind if he still had anything left! And that didn’t even include that he – as a prisoner – had probably committed war crimes judging by the probably 12-24 hours Tony knew him and the assholes he worked for.

God, he wished this would just be another AIM attempt.

Goon one and two pushed him into another room. It was empty aside from an old desk, an even older computer, a chair and The Asshole.

Said Asshole smiled at Tony and Tony rolled his eyes. He expected to be pushed forward hardly. He expected to stumble and fall.

Looking up from the ground to the standing man, he put a little waver in his smile. Did he hate to do that? Yes. Very much so. Was it what The Asshole wanted to see? Clearly. Was Tony above using psychology bullshit puppy dogs learned on their first day? Absolutely not. Tony was of the opinion that stupidity had to be punished. And he would fucking _relish_ to do just that.

“While you wait for your daily meal, I thought you liked to start working.”

Tony’s smile got a sharper edge. He hadn’t had anything to drink since he was at the restaurant with Peter and Happy. He had learned to ignore the scream of his body for water and food. He knew Jarvis, Steve, the Avengers and Pepper didn’t approve. But he hadn’t explained it to them after he had seen how it had gutted Rhodey. He couldn’t stop training his body to work on full power while being withheld bare necessities. If he did situations like this one would throw him much more than they already did.

Granted, sometimes it really was just him forgetting the time. Sometimes it was just the wonder of creating, of learning and being in his element. But he did do it deliberately, too. To be able to function in situations like this. Because he _knew_ there would be another kidnapping, another someone who wanted to use Tony’s genius for their own gain.

Not that they would get it.

“What do you want?”

The Asshole smiled wider, nodding to what thirty years ago would have been an outdated piece of technology.

“We want you to improve some schematics and create new ideas. You’ll see what I mean. We’re not foolish enough to let you near tools. And don’t worry. You can’t connect to the internet with this.”

Tony glanced at the piece of crap behind him and agreed. If there wasn’t a cord somewhere – and he very much doubted there would be – there was no way to connect it with anything. The question was: had they put this outdated abomination here because they wanted Tony to create something or were their files and information in that, backed up with more power, of course, to be unhackable?

He would find out soon enough.

“We’ll see about that.” He grinned obnoxiously up at The Asshole. That his expression didn’t change in the least was an answer in and of itself.

“Asset!” He called and Tony, whose eyes had drifted over to what once upon a time had been considered to be brilliant wonder of technology, snapped his gaze back. There was the faintest hint in his voice. Was he afraid of Buttercup?

A person with common sense would probably reflect on that – Tony bit back another smile.

“Beobachte ihn. Wenn er irgendetwas versucht, schieß ihm ins Knie.”

 _Watch him. If he tries anything shoot him in the knee._ Okay, that would be unpleasant.

Buttercup – and he would make them pay more for calling him _Asset_ – didn’t react. As the others left the room and Tony heard the door close behind them, he was presuming he stood beside the door.

He looked back and nearly screamed when he realized Buttercup was standing right behind him. Suppressing the yelp, he exhaled harshly.

“Fuck, Buttercup, make a noise!”

The assassin raised an eyebrow fractionally as if he had no clue why that would be beneficial.

“Whatever.” Tony pushed himself up, ignoring the loud protests of his shoulder and rips, back and head. He ignored that and everything else, advancing on the desk.

This was going to be painful. Tony knew it was going to be painful, but he had no idea it would be _this_ painful.

Groaning pitifully, he pushed the on button. He refrained from hitting his head on the keyboard when the piece of shit started blinking and made noises like a starting airplane.

This would take forever.

“This fucking sucks.” He grumbled, not giving a shit if there were micros in this room – he was betting on it – and refrained from pushing the on button repeatedly. Barely.

Turning around to his jailor he smiled. “While we wait for this outdated piece of antiquities that clearly should be in a museum tries to load, what will we do for the three days?”

Buttercup didn’t react. He just stared at Tony with a curious tilt to his head and eyes wider and more innocent when they should be. He had killed Tony’s driver. He had kidnapped Tony and shot him. It was hard to remember that looking in those eyes even if his wound was furiously reminding him. With a vengeance. But that wasn’t important right now.

Buttercup nodded towards the wanna-be-computer.

Tony groaned.

It would be a good idea to at least appear to do what he was told right now. It would (hopefully) give him some information to work with. It didn’t change that he didn’t like to touch it.

It took him two klicks to know, yeah, this one was tampered with. And he approved. Grudgingly. It took him barely ten minutes to shred through all the fire walls and that taught him three things.

Firstly, they had modified the technology enough so that he would be able to work on it, even if it would be much slower, much suckier and probably borderline suicidal – but he would be able to do it. Still, there was no way for him to connect to the internet or even a connected network. This was a data server with a screen and nothing more.

Secondly, they had a brilliant hacker in their ranks or at least subcontracted. They weren’t on par with Tony – who was? – but if he hadn’t come across their work before it would have taken a lot longer (probably around two hours) to crack through. Their code had a kind of beauty to it, even if it was still rudimental. With the right kind of teacher and work they would go far yet – if they didn’t end up in prison or dead before that.

Thirdly, and that was the real kicker, this information all originated from Hydra. He would have bet Jarvis that the people who were holding him right now weren’t Hydra, but they clearly worked with or for them. And that was a problem. Not only because it was _fucking Hydra_ who were supposed to be gone since the second world war, or because it meant this was clearly better planned than what Tony had hoped for. No, as soon as Steve would find out he would guilt trip himself into believing it was his fault.

Tony glanced at Buttercup who stood beside him, his eyes on the screen. His body almost relaxed.

Turning back to the actually useable technology hidden in a piece of crap, he started to work. With 12 screens simultaneously. 8 of them were schematics which were almost the most painful ones. Tony had thought R&D of Stark Industries had some stupid ideas. He clearly had no idea and should apologize to all of them and Pepper. This was stuff not even Hammer would have tried.

It was almost physically painful for Tony to not correct it. Somewhere in his mind he was pleading that these were part of a ploy to get him so angry that he started to work on them, before they were giving him the real work and until then he would be so occupied by work he wouldn’t notice – that would actually not be a bad plan.

One screen he used to find information about the people that were holding him.

One screen showed the limited information about other bases.

The last two screens were filled with a horror he barely could stomach. He only stole glimpses every few seconds, focusing on learning the information. Not thinking about it. Not reflecting on it. Just sponging it up.

He ignored that it was too much information for him to find this easily in a logical order. That it was almost a need package as if someone – the nameless hacker most likely – had compiled it for him as reading material.

He ignored that he found a name he recognized.

He certainly ignored the methods used. The timespan they had used him. The tasks he had done.

He stopped dead for four whole seconds when he found a file about a car accident on December 16th.

After that he just saved everything in his brain. Names. Dates. Everything that had been done to the man standing behind him. Looking over his shoulder.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple hours when they dragged both of them out. They had given Tony a bathroom break before pushing him back into his cell where they had been gracious enough to place an old mattress and worn blanket on the floor. He was given a sandwich and a bottle of water and were told they would get him ‘tomorrow’.

Tony’s responses were automatic.

He didn’t feel a thing. Not the need for caffeine. Not the physical pain of his body. Not the heaviness of exhaustion. Not the soul deep terror for what other _humans_ had done to that shell he called a nickname.

He closed his eyes willing his brain to _stop_. To _shut up_. To not show him all that information again and again and again.

The scream in his head was a white roar of desperation, of a childish fury. Of an understanding he didn’t want.

Concentrating on anything else, he focused on the fucking convenience of getting this information. Someone had had to plant it there. There was no fucking way all of this had been on a computer they intended Tony Stark to use and not find it. No. Fucking. Way.

The real question was: why? Why did they do it? What was their goal? Did they want to break him? Did they want to torture him with the knowledge that the murderer of his parents was here to kill and torture him too? Did they want him to lose it and kill the Winter Soldier? Did they want him to reflect on free will and what every person could be pushed to if broken often enough? Did they want to show him a glimpse of his future? Being a broken shadow of a man being used for atrocities against his will? If you could say that after striping a fucking _human being_ of everything resembling of a will at all?

Was this part of his torture?

Tony had eaten because he had to. He had drunk most of the water because his body needed it.

He sat down on the mattress. He stared into the pitch black when someone outside of the cell flipped the light switch.

Whether or not it was intended as part of his torture, it worked brilliantly. They couldn’t have planned or known how Tony would play into their hands by starting to _like_ the former person that had been broken and reshaped into a humanoid weapon. They couldn’t have known to use that flaw of Tony this masterfully against him.

Still it worked out for them.

When the light was flipped on again, Tony hadn’t even closed his eyes for longer than it took to blink. And he had tried to not do that as much as possible.

Sometimes he hated his mind. Hated his fragile heart. Hated humans as a species.

The door opened and the blond minion gripped his left arm, dragging him up. Tony didn’t fight. He bit down on the reaction his body would have shown otherwise. 

It wasn’t a surprise to Tony that he was dropped in front of the Throne like chair on the ground floor, or the nasty smile on The Asshole’s face. It had been a set up. Not surprising, really. Now, they would beat him because he did what they intended him to do all along and then they would give him the possibility to earn something to ease his injuries.

“I thought I had made myself clear.”

Tony looked up in the cold blue eyes.

“You didn’t work on any of the schematics, Mr. Stark. I thought you would be cleverer than this.”

“I like to disappoint.” Tony barely recognized his voice as his own. His media persona taking over without his input.

It was the perfect bait for The Asshole to explore his emotional pain.

“I fear, they will have to give you another lesson.” The kidnapper said, nodding his approval.

Tony barely reacted to the blows and kicks.

The Asshole didn’t know.

Tony accepted the physical reminder that he was alive. He didn’t appreciate them, but he accepted them. If he didn’t know… Was it the hacker? Had they planted the information without telling the kidnappers? Was it Hydra? And if so, why? If anyone would be crushed by most of the information it would be Steve – oh god, Steve. Or did they want to divide Tony and Steve?

The blows stopped and he spat some blood on the beautiful wood floor.

“Bringt ihn zurück in seine Zelle. Erschießt das Asset.”

Tony’s head snapped up at that. The way he had been moved he met the eyes of the Winter Soldier. He didn’t show any indication at all that The Asshole had just declared his death sentence.

Ripping himself free of the arms, Tony turned, glaring at the Kidnapper. He was barely able to keep upright. Barely able to speak but he was too furious. Because whatever happened here, whatever the Asset had done, whatever Hydra had done to Bucky Barnes, Tony wouldn’t be the reason they killed Buttercup.

Was it a sign of crazy that he put all of those people in separate categories while knowing full well that they were one and the same person? Probably. It didn’t change a damn thing. Tony wouldn’t be the reason he was killed. (Even if it might be kinder than let him keep existing.)

“Just so you know, I will not work on your damn projects. The only thing I will do is burn them down. And that will be a mercy because whoever constructed them had no idea what they were doing.” He spat a little more blood on the floor, glaring up at The Asshole, who had stopped smiling. That was enough reason for Tony to smile. He felt the blood dripple down his body. Felt his soaked through bandages and he couldn’t give a single fuck.

“And your boys here? The nursemaid with the silver arm hurt me more than they did. Get better henchmen.”

He had known they would attack. The blow to the head still was a misfortune.

Tony crumbled to the floor. He barely heard the shouted order when a foot connected directly with his bullet wound and he yelped in pain.

There was more commotion.

A scream.

A heavy weight falling on him.

His head bouncing painfully on the floor.

A gunshot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI: I almost cried writing this. Feel free to scream at me. 
> 
> As always I love all your ideas, theories, screams of despair and when you tell me what you liked about the chapter!
> 
> Love all of you. We'll get through this!


	7. Steve: Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and the others land in Germany to meet the contact of Natasha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is painful. I'm not sure what happened. Don't listen to "Hurts like Hell" by Fleurie while writing. It's not going to end well. 
> 
> I just want to remind everyone that I sincerely love Tony and the Avengers.

“Luca.”

“Nat!” The young woman with dyed bright red hair and sparkling blue eyes smiled radiantly at the Black Widow.

Steve knew any other day he would have instantly liked her. Today he resented her for the way she seemed to brighten the world around her. That was Tony’s job. And he wasn’t here.

“Come in.” She stepped back and made an inviting hand gesture inside of one of the identical looking houses in the street. Something wasn’t right about it and Steve tried to focus on it. On the woman.

On anything but the memory of Tony.

It had taken them ten hours to reach this location. The Quinjet was on a field surrounded by trees just beyond this street. That seemed to be relatively close to two cities as far as Steve had seen on the map and out of the window but he wasn’t sure what it was.

The flight had been tense. No one had spoken. If they were discovered Tony would most likely be killed. And it would be Steve’s fault. But he couldn’t stay behind and let Black Widow and Hawkeye save him. Bruce couldn’t be convinced to stay back.

If nothing else helped they would ask Spiderman to do _something_ to create a distraction. But right now, there was just nothing he cared about. Nothing aside from getting his genius back.

It was 11:37am in Germany. Not even 6 am in New York and Steve knew all of them were exhausted. None of them had slept at all during the flight. They couldn’t. He couldn’t.

Steve stopped in the hall of the house and just for a second forgot everything else. This place radiated energy. The walls were decorated with paintings, original ones and they looked amateurishly beautiful. The furniture, without a fail he saw following the woman deeper inside the house, was white. The walls were painted either in a warm caramel tone or almost obnoxiously colourful. There was bright apple green, dark sundown red and bright orange. All of it working surprisingly well together.

The most noticeable thing aside from the books all around and the collages of photographs showing beautiful landscapes and Luca with a lot of different other people always smiling brightly at the camera, were the plants almost taking over the house.

There were plants everywhere. Tendrils of them hanging from bookcases, from the ceiling and shelves that only held plants. There were a few plants in large pots that were as high as Steve, big leaves almost blocking the way. And blossoming orchids in every colour all around them.

All of them followed the woman, Luca, deeper inside the house, avoiding the leaves following her lead. It seemed she was dancing around them.

Steve saw the way Bruce’s shoulders relaxed a fraction being surrounded by all of this.

Luca made them sit down around a white table with white tablecloth on dark red chairs and a red corner bench. The table was filled with enough food to satisfy all of them. If they were hungry.

Steve cleared his throat. “Miss…”

“Luca is fine.” She smiled at him, calming. Understanding. Not backing down. “I’ll fill you in as soon as you all have eaten something. If you are anything like her,” she gestured to Natasha who sat on the end of the bench, her back tense, her posture ready to attack, “you need the incentive.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest. He couldn’t sit down and eat what looked like a full German breakfast while _Tony was most likely tortured_ , but Natasha interrupted him.

“We eat while you talk, Luca.” She reached for a bun that looked nothing like the ones Steve was used to. Before she did anything, she let her eyes wander over her teammates, the expression set.

Steve followed the others in taking a bun.

“I’ve seen the video.”

Steve held back a flinch.

“There is nothing identifiable on it.”

“Do you know _them_?” Clint asked, his voice almost warm. He had barely spoken at all since the video and if he had been forced to it had been cold and clipped.

“Not yet, but I put them in the family chat. I’m sure I’ll get an answer sooner rather than later.”

At that Steve and Bruce looked up at her questioningly. Bruce had been spreading some kind of unlabelled red jam on his bun while Steve had picked some cheese.

Luca’s expression, like her voice, was serious but still her eyes looked kind and comforting. Steve could barely take it.

“Has Nat not told you about _us_?”

“Of course not.” Natasha answered curtly.

Luca smiled at the Black Widow. “Thank you.” There was no mocking in her tone, but it was clear she laughed at one if not the deadliest assassin in the world.

“I’m part of a family whose name you won’t know anyway. We specialize in information, diplomacy, support in extreme situations and getting shit done.”

Steve bit down on his food. He didn’t taste anything. That sounded if not illegal borderline so. He couldn’t care less if it meant they would get Tony back. He should. He didn’t.

“And before you ask, no, we’re not the Mafia, no, we don’t work for one specific government and no, most of the stuff we do is actually legal, and yes, we’re magic.”

Steve almost choked while Bruce tensed. Steve itched to grab his shield. He didn’t. He trusted Natasha and Clint. They obviously knew her. They trusted her.

“Actually, it’s more a cross between magic and mutation. A little like your X-Men, a little like Dr. Strange. A colourful mix of both. They don’t know either. The important part is we don’t plan to take over the world and or enslave humanity.” Her smile was open and honest. The words were well used as if she said them time and time again.

All Steve could almost hear Tony groaning annoyedly because, seriously, magic again? But he wasn’t here and although Steve wasn’t sure he trusted magic he would use any and every means possible. Whether or not Tony would like it.

Before she could elaborate, Steve heard the front door opening and stood, already reaching for his shield.

“Wait!”

Luca had raised her hand, urgency clear in her expression. “It’s just my sisters. They were looking for information.”

“Luca?” The voice called from the entry hall, unconcerned and rather familiar now that he had heard Luca’s before. It didn’t mean he relaxed all that much.

“Esszimmer.” Luca called back, unconcerned.

Steve tried to breathe and calm down. He was barely able to. That Bruce seemed to be more relaxed when he was startled him. What if something was wrong? What if they were part of this? Bruce had been agitated since Tony had been taken and now, in an unfamiliar building with strange people he relaxed? What if all of this was a ploy and they had gotten into Natasha’s and Clint’s head like Loki had? Like that entity that had controlled Loki had? What if-

Two women stepped into the dining room. One of them was obviously Luca’s sister. She had blond her, but similar eyes and her smile was the same. She was even smaller than her sister. The other woman wasn’t related to them. She had short brown hair, was a head taller and had a different charisma altogether.

“Hey.” Luca’s sister said, sitting down beside her and smiled at all of them. The other woman sat down on Luca’s other side.

“Lia,” Luca nodded at the blond “and Iolanda. You got anything yet?”

“I just got off the phone with Manu and Aaron. They got nothing but their sources aren’t around here, right?” Lia shrugged. “And I got a call from Amaran. She says it fits her shadow.”

Natasha sat up straighter. “Her shadow?”

“She is following a shadow organization for years now. She swears it’s working since the war, but she hasn’t conclusive evidence.”

“What is there?” Steve asked, his voice barely held together. They didn’t need some shadow. They needed to find Tony!

“Hints, things that don’t add up. I’m not sure anyone else would have been able to find it at all.” Luca turned her gaze to Lia and she nodded.

“She is looking into it and got Nicky and Leon roped into it.”

“What about the Web?” Luca asked, looking at Iolanda, who had barely looked at all of them.

“Ich habe noch nichts interessantes gefunden, aber bring_the_world_down_with_sparks ist auffällig ruhig. Ich habe nichts gefunden was auf irgendeine Aktivität von ihr hinweist und sie wäre eine der wenigen der ich eine Firewall wie die beschriebene zutraue.” Her voice was almost shy.

Luca nodded and translated the answer. Steve had understood it. He had learned German when he had been here in the 40s. He knew most European languages enough to at least understand the important bits.

“We haven’t found anything just yet, but there is a hacker who has been inactive. Iolanda thinks she would be able to make a Firewall like Nat told us about.”

“What’s her MO?”

It took all of the others looking at Steve for him to realize he had asked. He hadn’t recognized his own voice.

“Sie arbeitet für alle die das nötige Kleingeld haben.” Iolanda shrugged. “Sie sammelt Informationen und verkauft sie an den Höchstbietenden. Sie zerstört Unternehmen. Sie hacked Regierungen weil ihr langweilig ist. Sie offenbart Agenten von Behörden die versuchen sie zu überführen und interessiert sich nicht dafür wer darunter leidet. Bis auf Kinder. Sie ist auf einem Kreuzzug und hat mehr Kinder im Darkweb gefunden als alle Regierungen zusammen.”

“She is a hacker for hire. She steals and sells information, destroys companies, hacks governments for fun and outs agents from agencies that annoy her. She is not a humanitarian and doesn’t care who she gets killed. But she has a soft spot for kids and has found and saved more kids that were… on the dark web when all governments together.”

“Why do you think it’s a woman? Because of the kids?” Nat asked Iolanda who seemed startled but shook her head.

“Just a guess.” Her English was mangled and not nearly as proficient as the other two women’s.

“But you’re sure?” Nat pressed.

Iolanda nodded.

“Okay. Can you find her?”

“Wenn sie wieder aktiv wird habe ich eine Chance, aber sie ist _gut_. Eine der besten Hacker auf der Welt. Wenn sie nicht gefunden werden will, weiß ich nicht wie weit ich kommen werde.”

“She’ll try, but Sparks is good.”

“Better than you?” Clint asked, his eyebrow’s raised challenging at the young woman.

“Yes.” She answered without hesitation.

The hacker wouldn’t be a match for his Tony, Steve knew. He would just wave his hands and do _something_ and they would get all the information they needed. Whenever Tony did it, it looked so easy. As if anyone could do it. But, of course, they couldn’t. Not even Jarvis had been able to get through it. He was still working on it.

“Can you send everything you have about it to… our guy?” He finished lamely, not wanting to out Jarvis. He wasn’t a secret per se, but his intelligence, reach and freedom certainly was.

Iolanda nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” He turned his eyes on Luca. “What will it cost?” He hadn’t asked before. He should have. Natasha wouldn’t put them in a position they couldn’t be in. He was almost sure. On the other hand, she loved Tony as her family. It frightened her, Steve knew, but now that she claimed all of them as her own, she would move heaven and hell to keep them safe.

Steve approved. But Captain America needed to ask. Needed to be sure.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” Luca agreed.

“A favour later then?” That could become very dangerous.

“No. We might ask you for help one day, but you will always have the right to decline.”

“I’ve done it before.” Natasha murmured low enough to make sure only Steve heard her.

“Why?”

Steve didn’t want to question it. He didn’t want to lose more time than they already had. He wanted to run out. To fucking do something already. But he needed to be sure. They couldn’t hand over the power of the Avengers to someone he didn’t know.

All three women smiled at that.

“The world is a far better place with Iron Man in it. Of course, we’re trying to get him back.”

“Do you know him?” Bruce asked, his voice calm and controlled.

“No, but he is a hero and that’s enough for us.”

“There are still people who-”

“Don’t worry Dr. Banner, we don’t hold a grudge against Tony Stark. Did he fuck up? Yes. But he learned from his mistakes and that is even more valuable than never having done anything wrong. Besides we’re human. No perfection for us.” She pushed herself up. “I cleared the upper floor for you. Get settled. We’re going to call a few people and get back to you.” She turned to Nat. “You know where everything is. By the way, Nika says hi and wants me to tell you that there is some new type of Milka chocolate.”

Before Steve could ask anything, or demand that Luca take this seriously, his phone buzzed. One look at it and his gut filled with ice.

Leaving the room, he took the call, looking out into a garden filled with plants and flowers he was almost sure shouldn’t be able to grow here.

“Pepper.”

“News?” Her voice was clipped and hard. He had called her and told her about the proof of life. She had demanded to see it and Steve had refused. She didn’t need to see it. She didn’t need to live with that.

“We just landed in Germany. We are with a contact of Nat’s.”

“Has anyone seen you?”

“No.” He bit back the _of course not_. Did she think they would risk Tony? Did she think… But they did, didn’t they?

“You sure?”

“Yes.” He wasn’t. The pit in his stomach, half filled with ice, half burning, tried to repel the food but he kept it down. He had to. He needed to be functional. He needed to be ready.

It was hard to not act. He accused Tony often enough of being to impulsive (he had learned that most of the time he did plan but didn’t communicate it. It wasn’t much better) and right now he wanted to grab his Shield and storm off.

But he had no direction. He was forced to _wait_. To trust people, he didn’t know. To rely on information, he couldn’t verify. He didn’t know what to do. What he could do.

He was useless.

He couldn’t do a damn thing. He couldn’t go out because that could cost Tony his life. He couldn’t plan because he had no information. He couldn’t do anything to make sure Tony would come home. That he wouldn’t be hurt worse than he already had.

It all but killed Steve.

“Peter called.”

He had called Steve, too. Nine times.

“Call him back.”

Steve bowed his head. “There is nothing I can tell him.”

“Tell him you’re looking. That you don’t give up.”

Steve didn’t answer.

“We’re getting him back, Steve. We always get him back.”

Always. Because this happened so often there was an _always_.

“Say it.”

“We get him back.”

“Call me when you know something.” Pepper cut the call and Steve kept staring out into the garden.

Bracing himself, he called Peter. If it was the only thing he could do, he would do it. Even if it gutted him.

“Captain Rogers!” Peter’s voice was breathless.

“We just landed in Germany, Peter. We don’t have any new information, but we met Nat’s contact and they are working on it.” Steve forced optimism in his voice.

“Oh, that… yeah.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner, but…”

“It’s… it’s okay.”

“I’ll call when we got news, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I… yeah.”

Tony would say something to make him feel better. A quip. A nickname. Something that actually gave hope.

“Bye, Peter.”

“Bye, Captain Rogers.”

Steve hung up and bowed his head again.

The bustle behind him was nothing but background noise. He ignored the bustling of his teammates. Ignored the hushed conversation in German. Ignored the dread and fear trying to drown him.

Steve didn’t know how long he would be able to keep himself together. Captain America needed to do something. He needed…

“Steve?”

He didn’t turn but moved his head enough for Bruce to know he had heard him.

“Can you come upstairs with us?” He drifted off, but knew what he wasn’t saying. They all got restless if they didn’t see the other Avengers close by. And now, in a foreign country, with Thor still away and Tony gone… They all needed the others to be close.

“Of course.” He turned, trying for a smile for the scientist. He was their Captain. Their friend. Their family. They were short two people already and Tony… their glue was not here. The least the others could ask of Steve was to be there for them.

He could focus on that. And he tried.

He followed Bruce up to the first floor. It was as full of pictures, paintings and plants as the ground floor. There were beds and couches, blankets and pillows, snacks and different kind of beverages.

“She really thinks we’re 5-year-olds, doesn’t she?” Clint asked as Steve sat down at one of the laptops opened on a big table.

“Is she wrong?” Natasha asked, not looking up from a map she studied.

Clint didn’t answer. Whether it was because on their good days Steve could see it, especially Tony and Clint hyped on sugar and caffeine, or because he waited for a quip as much as Steve did, he didn’t know.

Before he could try to say anything to help his team, his phone rang again.

“Jarvis you’re on speaker. The team-”

“There is a new video.”

Steve froze.

The others did too.

Jarvis voice was void of emotion. It was cold. Detached.

Steve opened his mouth. It was just after 1pm. They hadn’t been here for two hours. The kidnappers couldn’t…

“Show us.” It was the Black Widow talking.

“I don’t think you need to see it.”

No. No, no, no, no, no. NO.

_No._

“Show. Us.”

“Dr. Banner.”

Out of the corner of his eye Steve saw Bruce shaking. He stood. He went to the door. Closed it behind him.

Steve had to say something. He had to… He couldn’t leave him. Not like this.

He didn’t say anything.

Clint grabbed his arm, holding him in place. Steve didn’t feel it. He saw it. Knew it. But he didn’t feel it.

It didn’t matter anyway. Because it wasn’t true. It wasn’t. It couldn’t. This couldn’t- Two weeks ago. He had thought this _two weeks ago_. It just couldn’t-

The screen changed and showed the same room Tony had been in before. It was another angle, from higher up. Probably a security camera.

The kidnapper sat in the chair texting. It took agonizingly long minutes before he put the phone away, sitting up straighter. There was movement in one corner and Tony was dragged in. His face was visible for only a heartbeat and Steve almost whined in pain. The eyes of the genius were dark and haunted. There was a fragility to them that Steve had never seen there before.

He was pushed to his knees in front of the throne. He didn’t fight it.

The kidnapper smiled nastily at him and said something but the video was soundless.

“I thought I had made myself clear.” Clint mumbled, reading the kidnappers lips.

Tony looked up at him but from their angle they couldn’t see if he answered.

“You didn’t work on any of the schematics, Mr. Stark. I thought you would be cleverer than this.” Clint mumbled, a mixture of furious rage and powerlessness mixing in his voice.

Of course, he hadn’t. Steve wanted to scream. Why couldn’t he have played along! Just a sign of good will. Just one little thing and he might not-

“I fear, they will have to give you another lesson.”

Natasha’s hand grasped Steve’s shoulder and clenched down painfully. Clint’s did too.

The kidnapper on screen nodded and the two man from the first video stepped forward. Kicking the kneeling man. Kicking the man lying on the ground.

Tony barely reacted.

Steve fought to keep his stomach content down. He wanted to scream at their genius to _fight_. Tony was never one to lie down and take a beating. He was the one that would find solutions before others realized there was a problem!

He was Steve’s hope. He couldn’t-

The men stepped back and Tony pushed himself up a little, spitting blood on the floor.

The kidnapper said something but Clint didn’t translate. Before Steve could ask why he hadn’t, Tony’s head snapped up and from his posture Steve knew he was furious.

He could have laughed! That was his Tony. Bloody and beaten but with enough spirit to outshine the sun if he wanted to.

Tony seemed to look at someone before he ripped himself free of the hands that had dragged him on his feet, staggering slightly and turning back to the kidnapper. His posture changed to something Steve only knew from old videos: The Merchant of Death.

The kidnapper actually stiffened in his seat.

He must be saying something to the kidnapper. His hands made short and clear movements. He spat more blood on the ground. He made a careless hand gesture indicating the two people who had just beaten him and Steve wanted to call out a warning.

He didn’t have the time.

The blond was already on Tony, his fist connecting hard with Tony’s forehead and the genius crumbled. The blond started kicking again. More viciously than before.

“No!” Clint hissed right beside Steve. Steve couldn’t answer.

The kidnapper jumped upwards, obviously shouting something but all of them had only eyes for Tony, lying almost motionless on the floor.

The dark haired one tried to get the blond away from Tony. He was thrown on top of Tony.

A shadow from the side stepped closer and the man, clad in black, his face hidden from the camera, fired four shots.

One into the head of the kidnapper.

One into the head of the blond.

One into the head of the brunet.

One…

Natasha’s fingernails tore through clothes and flesh. Steve didn’t care.

The man stepped forward, gripping hold of the clothes of the brunet pushing him off Tony unceremoniously.

They couldn’t see much, but Tony didn’t move. Steve didn’t see a wound. Too much red.

The man grabbed Tony and threw him over his shoulder. Turning towards the door he looked up at the camera, his lower face covered by a mask. He obviously knew that it was there. He shook his head once and exited the room.

Steve didn’t realize when the screen went black. He didn’t realize when Clint let go of his arm and left. He didn’t know how much time had passed when Natasha unclenched her hand from his shoulder.

“At least he is dead.”

Steve couldn’t move. Not hearing those words. Not hearing the _agony_ behind it.

He met Natasha’s eyes in the reflecting black screen. It distorted some of the reality. Some of the pain. A physical representation of the numbness spreading through him.

“That was the Winter Soldier.” Nat, because that was not the Black Widow, whispered, her voice shaking. “He… If he had Tony…” She didn’t finish.

Steve wanted to rage. He wanted to tell her to…

Nothing was relevant anymore.

Tony was gone.

He would have to tell Pepper.

 _Peter_.

Steve felt a tear, hot and burning, run down his cheek.

He had lost Tony.

They had lost Tony.

This wasn’t a game. This wasn’t a crazy fan wanting their reunion.

Steve had let Tony go.

Steve had failed Tony.

Steve had lost Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry? I'm actually a little shocked about what I did here... but I promise it all serves a purpose. You know there will be a Happy Ending! Hell, I promise you a wedding! (Not in this fic though, just so we're clear). 
> 
> Thank you all for your comments. Seriously, love you all! Stay safe and healthy!


	8. Winter: New Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter has a new mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone,
> 
> thank you so much for all of your brilliant comments! 
> 
> This one is going to be a little lighter. Enjoy!

Gingerly, Winter put the target on the passenger seat, fastening his seat belt.

He didn’t think. He acted. Like a proper Asset.

Yeah. Right.

He leaned back and saw some blood on the other man’s face. He had tried to get rid of most of it but aside from a shower or bath it probably wouldn’t work. And he didn’t have time for either.

He closed the door, walked around the car, sat down and started driving.

The target had done this to protect Winter. Winter didn’t understand why. He didn’t understand why it should upset the target that Winter would be decommissioned. Winter barely cared.

But the target’s eyes had flared with rage and, weak as he had been, had turned on the handler and fought him.

Not that it would have meant much in the long run if Winter hadn’t… He had killed a handler. He had the feeling he had killed other handlers but he didn’t remember. He only knew he would be punished severely for it.

But in the moment, he hadn’t thought about it. The handler had told the other men that Hydra was coming to collect the target and Winter had _decided_ he couldn’t let that happen.

Had it been a decision? Winter wasn’t sure. He had acted like a handler had given the order. Like _he_ had been a handler. But had he thought about it? He didn’t know.

He had shot the handler. Then the other men. Then he had shot the one lying on the target again, splattering blood and brain matter enough over the face of the target to make sure the surveillance camera wouldn’t be able to tell that he hadn’t shot him directly, thrown him over his shoulder in a way that hid the head behind his back and left the room.

No.

He had looked at the camera and shook his head. He had told the handlers that they wouldn’t get Winter. That they wouldn’t get the target.

He had declared war.

And it felt good. Did it feel good? There was a flutter in his stomach that wasn’t all pleasant. But it was also… different. Like the target was different.

He glanced at the unconscious man strapped to the passenger seat. He had taken care of the head wound but hadn’t dared to do more. If the other handlers were that close they had to flee. Right now.

He had grabbed everything he thought they needed, cleaned the target enough to not look suspicious, had changed in inconspicuous gear and left.

He felt… different without the face mask.

That he had decided. Because staying hadn’t been an option. He decided that.

He glanced again at the other man.

An hour later, he dumped the car in a junkyard, trading it for another car, driving half of the way back before changing directions again. He knew they couldn’t keep this up for much longer. He needed to treat the target. He was still unconscious and Winter didn’t like it.

That surprised him. Winter normally liked it when people where unconscious. It meant they couldn’t try to complicate things. It meant they couldn’t hurt Winter. But with the target that as well was different.

He needed to find them a base. He needed to take a look at the wounds of the target. He needed to keep them safe.

Winter decided to not question any of it until he had found them a base, took care of the target’s wounds and kept them safe. Because that was his mission.

He would think about how he had been able to decide on a mission like he was a handler after he accomplished it.

At the groan from the other man he glanced over. His eyes fluttered, he made another pained sound, moving minimally.

It was only a little farther. Although the groans made him… uneasy.

Driving through another town, he followed small roads to a forest he had crossed a few weeks ago on a mission. He had seen the three fenced in parts. In the last one had been a small hut.

Winter hadn’t thought about it why he had filed that information away. He had barely glanced at it. It had been a long mission. Nothing to think about.

Hiding the car behind a few bushes as best as he could, he broke the old chain around the gate and hesitated. He should go in, check the perimeter and make sure it was a good idea to stay here. He glanced back at the car. It didn’t feel right to let the target unprotected.

He needed to act. Right now. Wavering, he turned, went back to the car and took the target out, carefully. He carried him into the garden, holding him tight enough that if he needed to use his weapon, that was still in his hand, he would be able to.

The garden was empty. It was overgrown and unkept. Perfect.

The hut was barely more than a few boards nailed together. But it was better than nothing.

Gingerly, he placed the target on the ground, letting his eyes wander around, before he slipped back to the car, got their gear and came back.

He spread out a blanket on the dirty floor, placing the target on it. Before he did anything else, Winter gave the target a liquid pain medication with a syringe. He had learned to do that. He didn’t remember how or why. But he was confident he did it right.

The target huffed. It took some minutes. As soon as he settled Winter started looking him over. He bandaged the bullet wound new, cleaned the new wounds and dressed them. His rips were bruised, as was most of his body. He would have a severe concussion but nothing was broken. He would live.

Winter didn’t understand why the confirmation that his earlier estimation wasn’t as dire as he had… feared? Had he feared it? How was it that he had feared that at all? He had known that the handlers hadn’t wanted to kill or maim him. He had known he had taken the target to be put to work. They hadn’t been allowed to injure him too bad. Nothing lasting. Nothing that would prevent him from doing what the handlers wanted.

So, why? Why had he… Why?

He looked down on the unconscious man. He had put the clothes back on him, throwing another blanket over him. The light in his chest had made something in Winter… move? The scars around it where telling.

Was the target more like Winter than he thought? He wasn’t like Winter. Not with that _light_ inside of him. But maybe he was a little like Winter? Maybe…

Sitting down beside the target, his eyes firmly on the closed door, he held his weapon with one hand, while eating with the other.

Four hours and nine minutes later, the target stirred.

Winter glanced at him and noticed the cancelled movements, the sounds of discomfort and the expressive face pinched in pain.

Winter hesitated. The target was able to handle pain. He had proved that before. But Winter didn’t want him to be in pain. Winter wasn’t a handler. Wasn’t he? No. Even if he had made decisions like a handler he wasn’t a handler. Not of the target.

Winter still hesitated. He couldn’t risk overdosing the target. His body was already battered, he didn’t know how the light in his chest would change his physiology and he hadn’t had anything to drink or eat for hours.

When the target finally blinked his eyes open, they were hazy from the drugs. He looked around, his forehead furrowing at the pain that his movements still caused him.

The brown eyes, wide and more trusting than they should be, found Winter. He blinked at Winter. There was something going on in his mind. Winter knew the struggle.

“My name’s Tony. Who’re you?” His words were slurred but there was something in his tone. He was obviously not of sound mind. Still, Winter had the feeling the question was important.

“Winter.”

He wasn’t sure why he had answered. He wasn’t sure why he told the target the name he had chosen for himself.

The smile that broke out over the face of Tony was dopey. Still, something settled in Winter.

“That’s a pretty name, Buttercup.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “We’re going to be bestest friends.” There was a new tone to those words. Something heavy. Something painful? But Winter was sure, he meant them.

Friends?

Winter looked down at the target. The man, even if he possessed a spirit and will that were… more than Winter had ever seen, his body was small and weak. If anything bigger than a squirrel wanted to kill him right now he wouldn’t stand a chance. And even if he weren’t injured… He didn’t seem particularly focused on staying unharmed. He had tried to protect _Winter_.

Winter looked back at the door, but his eyes wandered back to the smaller man. The target.

If he hadn’t intervened he would be with the handlers right now. They would break him. They would kill his spirit. Kill his will. Destroy his… light.

Winter couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t.

Moving fractually closer to the unconscious body he exhaled inaudible.

He had already made a Decision. He had… he had acted against his orders. He could explain the stopping of the handlers. The target wasn’t to be permanently harmed. If he had just stopped them it would have been a decision. Something he was trained to do. Go one of two ways to make sure he succeeded.

But he hadn’t done that. He had killed them. He had killed the handlers. For that he would have been severely punished even if they weren’t Hydra.

But he hadn’t done that either. He had framed the scene as if he had killed the target. He took the target with him. He had looked at the camera. He had shaken his head. He had not only decided something. He had _acted_ on it. He had let them _know_.

Winter hadn’t known he could do that.

He still didn’t know _why_ he had done it.

Aside from that squirming in his gut. The nonsensical pressure in his chest. The _need_ to do something.

He had never given in to that need. He had never protected himself. Or he didn’t remember. He had accepted any mission, any punishment. Why had this been different?

Because the target was different? Because the target hadn’t been afraid? Because he had touched Winter and not hurt him?

Winter had seen the target open the files about Winter. He hadn’t intervened because it had been in the parameters of his order. He had seen the reactions of the target. Winter hadn’t read it. It didn’t mean anything to him. But he had watched the target.

There had been pain in the brown eyes. But no fear. Rage and disgust. But not at Winter. Winter wasn’t sure why he thought that. Why it mattered. But it did.

He glanced back at the target that was curled in the blanket. He could kill him. He should take him to his handlers.

He wouldn’t. He had decided. It didn’t matter why. It didn’t matter how.

Winter had decided on his new mission. His own mission.

Winter would protect the target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The part of "bestestet friend" and "squirrel" was heavily inspired (partly stolen) from a comic from pet_foolery. It's an amazing artist on Tumblr and instagram. Check them out!
> 
> As always, your comments give me life!
> 
> (Also I'm going to have a rough week so I'm not sure when I will be able to update next. But I will update. Promise!)


	9. Tony: A Clusterfuck of Epic Proportions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Buttercup have a heart to heart. Kinda.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of swearing in this one, but I think Tony is allowed to...
> 
> Enjoy!

Waking up was – most of the days – a coin toss for Tony. Either he hadn’t slept enough and felt worse or he had slept too long and felt worse. Either way someone was going to yell at him. It was one of the things he disliked most about it – right after the nightmares, his insomnia and before the time he lost while sleeping. A design flaw in humans, he kept telling people.

Waking up in a drugged haze was worse. As it was the numb and gooey feeling of pain meds he was a little reassured before everything came back to him. He had been kidnapped by the murderer of his parents’ who was a brainwashed puppet of Hydra. And they were on first name bases.

Life had been easier when… well. He didn’t remember. But it must have been easier once upon a time, right? Right?

Opening his eyes – because whatever else he was, he wasn’t a coward… if it didn’t involve Pepper, Nat or Peter’s quivering lower lip – he looked around the shack. Buttercup – or Winter like he called himself – sat right beside him, his eyes on the door but Tony wasn’t fooled. He had observed him while Tony woke up.

And this was Buttercup. It wasn’t either of the other names. If Tony wanted to get out of here and not do something so insanely stupid even he acknowledged the idiocy of it – and hurt an innocent in the process – this was Winter. Buttercup. He was a brainwashed puppy assassin that Tony would try not to break any further until he could find him someone – anyone – that would be more qualified than the human disaster Tony Stark to help him.

Tony wouldn’t think of anything else. He was an innocent. He was… the murderer of his mum. There was no lost love between Howard and him but… The Winter Soldier had killed his parents. Had staged it like an accident. Had murdered so many people Tony had ignored the long list. He didn’t want to know. He really didn’t want to know.

Clenching his left fist, he relaxed it forcefully. Buttercup was innocent. Probably. He didn’t seem to want to hurt Tony. Hell, he most likely had gotten him out of there and saved his life in the process – if all of this wasn’t an insane plan to make Tony do whatever they wanted him to do.

Buttercup, after glancing at Tony, reached over, handing him a water bottle.

That could be drugged. Or poisoned. Or it could just be water. There was no logical explanation, nothing but the claim that Tony was traumatized and drugged, most likely in shock and denial and had a concussion for taking the water. Trusting Hydra’s Asset.

“Thanks.” Tony ignored how raspy his voice sounded. He pushed himself upright and also ignored his protesting body. All of it was muffled anyway by the drugs still running through his system. He took a careful sip, waited for the need to throw up (or straight up die) and when it didn’t come, drank more.

“What happened?” Tony asked, looking at Buttercup sitting at attention. He did remember threatening the Asshole and being knocked out. He also remembered hazily waking up, being an embarrassment as usual, and falling back asleep. Or unconscious. Whatever.

Winter looked at him, his eyebrow slightly rising. Without the mask he looked a lot younger. And faintly familiar. Not that Tony was thinking about it. Nope. Not. At. All. He focused on his eyes, an expression between confusion and determination. Both looked more appropriate to be on the face of a pre-schooler who just tried to understand the world on a basic level than an almost 100 year old man (who didn’t even have dementia!).

“I don’t remember much. I got hit in the head and that’s basically it. And you’re Winter. I’ll probably use Buttercup more but that has nothing to do with you, alright, honey? I give nicknames to everyone, point in case. I don’t want to take away your autonomy and you probably gave yourself the name and it’s probably like an insult if-” Tony pressed his lips together and bit back a groan. Fantastic. He was already ruining it.

“Okay.”

His eyes snapped back to Winter. His expression hadn’t changed but his posture was still as relaxed as Tony had ever seen it. In all the long _long_ time he knew him. What was it by now? A day? Two?

He probably had a concussion and even if not, he would totally blame everything on it anyway. It was better than insanity. (Not that anyone would be surprised if he finally did lose his marbles.)

“Do you… do you want me to call you Winter?” Because Tony would if it was important. He would like to keep that barrier between the Winter Soldier and himself… but if Buttercup… if Winter wanted it, he would give it to him. Of course, he would.

Whatever Buttercup… Winter decided he would try to encourage it because after what he had lived through… yeah, it was the fucking least he could do.

Winter furrowed his forehead. Okay, there was the slight indication that he might be doing that. Tony still counted it. In any case, he looked as if he was thinking. There was a slight possibility of him deciding that whatever this was wasn’t working for him and he would kill Tony – he would totally understand that.

Even if it was almost a physical need to fill the silence with words, Tony kept quiet. After Afghanistan… after only three months he had wanted to react violently whenever someone tried to take a choice from him. Whatever was happening with Buttercup right now? It must be so much worse.

Actually, it was quite possible he was thinking about why Tony was asking him that. The way the Asshole had talked to him and the two goons hadn’t even looked at him (aside from a little fear and to make sure he was not too close) Tony would guess none of them had even treated him like a human being. What was he saying? He _knew_ they hadn’t. Even if all the ‘doctors’ that had operated on him, even if the first generation of mad scientists and torturers were long dead, Tony had read the reports. He fucking _knew_ that they thought of Winter – of Buttercup! – as a thing. A weapon. Hell, Tony had cared better for the weapons he had designed back at his absolute worst.

So, Tony would sit here, keep his damn mouth shut and let the man think. Even if he pulled a muscle doing it.

“Buttercup…” The assassin said the word as if he was trying it out. “Winter or Buttercup.” That sounded nearly confident. He glanced over to Tony as if asking for approval.

Oh, hell no. Instead of going into a rant, Tony smiled at the other man. “Good. That’s good. I’ll try to keep it to those names. If I say something you don’t like, just tell me, okay? No harm no foul.”

Winter looked at him as if he didn’t understand the concept and he most likely didn’t. This was going to be a clusterfuck of epic proportions.

“Not to be annoying or anything, but what happened?”

Winter leaned a little more against the wood behind his back and Tony ignored the implications that his head screamed at him. But just to be sure, he slumped a little more, smiling at him in a relaxed manner. The worst part? He didn’t even have to force himself. After this he really had to go to a shrink.

“Decided…” Winter stopped, his eyes wide in wonder and maybe fear, before they landed again on Tony.

“New mission.”

“That’s great, Buttercup. What’s the new mission?”

There was a new determination in his face. And something else Tony couldn’t make out. The next sentence distracted him thoroughly anyway.

“Keep target safe.”

Tony gaped at the assassin that distinctly reminded him of another man with wide shoulders that had the puppy eyes down pat. What the fuck?

“No Hydra. No handlers. _Safe_.” Winter insisted. There was so much innocent honesty in his voice Tony could barely stand it. He also couldn’t let him do that. Winter needed to… well. He needed a professional or even better a whole army of professionals who wouldn’t… Use him? Experiment on him? Understand what he was going through?

Who was Tony kidding. Even if Winter didn’t want anything to do with Tony – a sensible decision, really – he probably wanted to meet Steve again. He needed help and protection and Tony’s money could give him that. He also had the connections to get him the best doctors. Hell, he would move in with Steve anyway! They had been best friends – or lovers like a lot of people suggested and that was a whole other thing to unpack – but Steve had always talked about Bucky like Tony talked about Rhodey. Like a big brother. Like the person you would turn to if you were at the end of your line. The one person you would burn down the world for if it would help them.

God, Steve would flip.

But back to the situation at hand.

“That’s… thanks. That’s. Yeah. I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Winter held his gaze a little longer before nodding once.

“Okay, so you… killed the assholes and got us out of there?”

Winter nodded again. Okay, this could work.

“You drove us here and made sure we couldn’t be followed?”

Winter nodded again. This really could work. Tony would become sick of his own voice sooner or later but at least he wasn’t a lab rat for Hydra right now. Silver linings. Silver linings everywhere.

“Do you have a plan?”

Winter hesitated. Tony wasn’t sure if he didn’t have one, didn’t want to tell Tony, didn’t want to talk or was too confused to be asked if he had a plan.

Before Tony could decide how to react – or most likely get a gastric ulcer for swallowing all the reactions – his stomach rumbled.

Winter moved, too fast for a human, especially one who most likely had spent hours sitting on a hard floor. He held a bag towards Tony. In it was bread and cheese slices still in their respective packages.

Better than nothing. He took it from Winter, making himself a sandwich, glancing around. The shack was probably abandoned, probably somewhere in a forest.

He took a bite and ignored the throbbing of his chin and cheek.

“Where are we?”

“Safe. For now.”

Demanding an answer would probably lead nowhere. Switching tracks, he took another bite and looked at Winter.

“Do you have a phone?”

The incredulous look he got was enough to make him smile again. Maybe the Winter Soldier had been a puppet but his _handlers_ probably shouldn’t have ignored the warning in the files that he needed to be ‘recalibrated’ as they called the fucking torture session, because Buttercup had a freaking attitude.

“I need to call my team.”

And Jarvis. Of course, Jarvis. But the second he got his hands on a phone, a laptop, tablet or a fucking pigeon, Jarvis would be informed.

“No.”

“They’ll help us.”

“No.”

“I get that you don’t trust them, but they won’t harm you. I wouldn’t let them.”

The almost pitying look he received for that would have scrapped his ego more if he wasn’t fighting to stay awake right now – and if he didn’t know Buttercup was a freaking super soldier. As if Tony needed more of them in his life.

“Not safe.”

“I trust them with my life.”

“Intel from them.”

Tony froze. Of course, he had wondered how Winter had been able to know exactly when and where he would be, but his team? Never. None of them would betray Tony to Hydra. No way. They were all good people. Heroes. They might decide one day Tony wasn’t worth all the trouble but they would _never_ sell him out like that.

“No.”

Winter indicated an eyebrow rise.

“From whom?”

Even if he didn’t see the movement, Tony could have sworn he was shrugging.

“The Avengers?”

Winter’s gaze snapped up, his eyes hard. “Shield.”

“There are Hydra spies in Shield?” Ice cold realization settled in Tony’s gut. He made a habit of hacking Shield regularly and there had been anomalies. Nothing too suspicious but both he and Jarvis had flagged them. To be looked at closer. But there had never been the time. Fuck. Fuckity Fuck.

Winter just nodded. His expression dark.

“I need to call my team right now!”

“Not safe.”

“If there are spies in Shield-” What was he saying? All of them were fucking spies! “If there are Hydra spies I need to warn my team!”

“Not safe.”

“I don’t care! Buttercup, they are my friends! I need to tell them!”

“Not. Safe.”

“I. Don’t. Care.” It was hard not to scream. It wouldn’t be a good idea. He shouldn’t traumatize the brainwashed super soldier-assassin but by god, Tony _needed_ to tell Steve.

No, not Steve. Natasha. He needed to tell Natasha. She needed to get Steve as safe as possible and then destroy them all.

Oh god, _Steve_.

Winter made a small sound, nothing more than an exhale but if it had been anyone else he would have sworn (in front of congress) that it had been an annoyed huff.

“Buttercup.” Tony opened his mouth but the almost challenge in the other man’s eyes was telling. He wouldn’t risk his mission. How in the fuck had Tony managed to- not important right now.

“Pepper! Let me call Pepper. She-”

“Not safe.”

“What?”

“Spies.”

“At Stark Industries?”

Winter nodded.

“Fucking hell!” Without acknowledging the injuries flaring up to scream their dissatisfaction at him, Tony pushed himself up, supporting himself with the less-injured arm on the unstable looking wall of their hideout.

Tony tried to breathe, tried to be calm because, hell, he had to, beneficial to his health and all and that was before he probably shouldn’t trigger the torture victim but how the fuck was he supposed to do that?

Hydra still existed. It fucking existed and Steve would think it was his fault and that was totally beside the point but it was what part of his mind was screaming at him while the rest couldn’t repress the facts he had read yesterday. And it wasn’t only in Germany. They were in America, too. They were in Shield. They were in SI. They were in _his_ company and – they could hurt the team. They could hurt Pepper. They could-

“Rhodey.” Tony almost gasped. “Let me call Rhodey. He is my oldest friend. He isn’t part of Hydra, I swear to you! Let me-”

“No.”

“Why?!?”

“Military.”

“Fucking hell!”

Winter’s frown deepened and he stood up smoothly. There was something like worry in his gaze while he looked at Tony.

Turning away, Tony pressed his eyes closed. A plan. He needed a plan _right now_. And to calm down. Okay. Priorities. The Avengers needed to know. They needed to know right now, because they freaking worked with Shield – not for much longer, Tony would make sure of that. Hell, it was safe to assume that most governments probably had spies in them. Okay, so the world needed to know. Preferably right now. Maybe just after Tony let the people who were looking for him know that he was fine and there were so many more important things to do.

Like stopping a fucking organization that should have died over seventy years ago.

“Target.” Winter’s voice was uncertain. Small. Almost afraid. But Tony couldn’t react. Not while his heart was trying to jump out of his chest, while air was constricting in his lungs and-

“T… Tony?”

He gasped. Trying to breathe. Trying to calm because having a fucking panic attack right now wouldn’t help anyone. Not him. Not Buttercup. Not Steve. Not the Avengers. Not the legit Shield Agents. Not Pepper. Not the trustworthy SI minions. Not the world.

He knew the techniques to calm, to focus on the present, to breathe, to focus on a safe space but he was still a fucking hostage, held by the man that had killed his parents, that had killed his _mom_.

There was a hand on his shoulder and his whole body shuttered. Biting down hard enough to taste blood.

He felt a sting and then something hot running through his veins.

He wanted to turn towards Winter, to see his eyes. Had he decided to kill him? Had he decided this wasn’t his mission after all? Winter needed help, he needed support and now he saw Tony for the broken man that he was.

Tony couldn’t help him. He couldn’t help _anyone_. He should have _known_! He should have followed the anomalies. He should have hacked deeper! He should have had a closer eye on his company.

He should be able to keep it together. To – for once – not fuck up and at least inform the others so that they could save the day.

But he wasn’t even able to do that.

When his legs gave out, two arms, one human, one machine, caught him and – very carefully – arranged him on the blanket on the ground.

His eyes were closed already. There was a touch to his cheek, to light to really register in his mind, before Tony was out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... Instead of doing more of my work I took a long long break and wrote this chapter.
> 
> Thank you all for your amazing comments!!!


	10. Steve: Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve tries to wrap his head around what happened. Also more plot happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> I had a week straight from hell. I hope all my lovely readers are feeling well! (That will probably change while reading this chapter... you have been warned...)
> 
> Enjoy!

“Captain Rogers.”

Steve didn’t react.

“Captain Rogers.”

Natasha squeezed his shoulder and left the room. She was going to look for Clint and Bruce. She was going to talk to Fury. Probably. They hadn’t when they left. She was going to talk to the others.

She was going to burn down the world and raise hell.

The others would help her. Steve would help her.

After.

“Jarvis.”

“I’m getting close to finding their location.”

Too late, Steve didn’t say.

Jarvis’ voice, right now, was robotic. Jarvis, who had as much heart and humour as his creator. His father. Who he saw being shot by someone that frightened even the Black Widow.

Steve tried to breathe. He had lost Tony. His best friend. A part of his _family._ A future he had dreamed of. But Jarvis had lost his _father_.

“Jarvis?”

“Captain?”

“I’m sorry.”

The AI kept quiet for what felt like an eternity. An eternity in that Steve wanted to scream. To plead forgiveness. To break down. To grieve like the ripped-out piece of his soul demanded.

“It wasn’t your fault, Captain.” Something had slithered in Jarvis’ words and it nearly killed Steve.

“It wasn’t your fault either, Jarvis.” He almost gasped out.

Jarvis didn’t answer. And Steve understood. Too well.

“I will let you know what I find.”

“Thank you.”

As Jarvis didn’t disconnect, Steve stayed on the line. Waiting. Enduring the silence. Sharing their grieve.

“Captain?” There was hesitance in his voice. A hint of the agony he must be feeling. Steve couldn’t comprehend it. Could imagine the _genius_ and _soul_ Tony had put into the AI.

“Yes?”

“I… I can’t inform Miss Potts and Mr. Parker.”

Steve closed his eyes. He had heard Jarvis amused, annoyed, frustrated, agitated, even angry once. But never afraid. Never broken.

“I’ll do it.”

“I-”

“It’s okay, Jarvis.” Tony had asked him to take care of Peter. If he had known… He would have asked Steve to take care of Jarvis too. Of Dummy.

“Thank you.” It was barely a whisper and Steve knew, if the AI could cry, he would have.

Leaning back in his chair, Steve let himself feel the… magnitude. He pushed the grieve and agony as far away as he could. He beat it with a stick. He tied it up and buried it. He could fall apart later. Right now, he had to take care of the team. He had to take care of his family. He had to take care of Tony’s family.

Because if their roles were reversed, he knew Tony would already be doing something. He would be there for Nat and Clint and Bruce. He would have never let it come so far…

Sitting up, Steve squared his shoulders. He was Captain America. The leader of the Avengers. It was his responsibility to… To lead them. To be there for them. To keep them safe.

To do the job. To not burden them further.

Reaching for his phone, he dialled the number. He stared ahead.

The call connected.

“Pepper.”

There was a pause. Not because the feelings he was _not feeling right now_ laced his voice, but because there was nothing in it. Nothing at all.

“There… there was a video.” Steve couldn’t bring himself to say more. He needed to. He needed to console her. To ask what she needed, because she loved Tony as her family. She was the CEO of his company. But he couldn’t.

“Are you certain?” Her voice was as dead as his. It was cold, hard cut and trying to hide the deep fear, the emptiness. The agony behind it.

Without a body there always was a chance that it was staged.

“Yes. We’re certain.” He didn’t want to be. He wanted to give her hope. He wanted to have that hope. But if he allowed himself that hope it would kill him when the inevitable truth came around. Because Nat and Clint believed it. If they believed it… How could he not? He had seen it. Seen the blood. The splatter. The-

Pepper’s breath hitched.

Steve pressed down on his need to beg for forgiveness.

“Find him Steve. You have to find him and bring him home.”

“I will.”

“He can’t-”

“I will find him, Pepper. We will. I promise you.” And they would. They wouldn’t let him rot somewhere. Never again. He would never again leave someone behind.

For a moment there was just silence on the phone. The deep, all-consuming silence of… not being able to accept the truth. Of trying to wrap your head around a fact that just couldn’t be. The impossibility of trying to imagine a world without _Tony_. They lived and worked in Avengers Tower. In _Stark Tower_.

They had. Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to keep living there. He wouldn’t be able to be _there_. Without Tony.

Everything in there was infused with Tony, his brilliance, his heart. From the thoughtful constructing, the decorating that showed how much he knew and cared about them, the brilliance of their equipment.

None of them would keep living there. Steve was sure.

Steve had only known him for a year. One brilliant, frustrating, amazing year. Pepper had known him for so much longer.

“I’ll… I’ll tell Rhodey. He is on his way. He got delayed but… He will be here.”

Steve paled. He had forgotten about Colonel Rhodes. He hadn’t thought about Tony’s oldest friend and _brother_. Who had known Tony for over 20 years. Who had been with Tony through his worst and had told Steve to keep him safe.

And he had failed him. Had failed them both.

“I… we’ll tell the press later. When…” She didn’t finish the sentence. Steve understood nonetheless.

“I will call Peter.” His voice sounded more confident than he felt. But Pepper needed this right now. She was going to tell Rhodey. Tony’s brother. He could tell Tony’s kid.

“Good.” There was a shuddering breath on the line. And Steve almost saw Pepper Potts straightening her shoulders. She was strong, unyielding. Just like Tony.

“How are you?”

That question almost shuttered Steve’s resolve. There was no way how he could answer that without flat out lying – which he wouldn’t be able to. Or breaking down.

“Call me when you have something.”

“You too.” Steve was surprised how strong his voice sounded.

He placed the phone on the desk before him, staring at the wall in front of him. There was a painting with planets that seemed to crash. Seven planets while the one the observer was standing on, seemed to crack. To break into pieces. To crumble to dust. The dominant colour was orange and dark blue. The artist had used corrugated cardboard giving the image an interesting hard and broken look. And they had used glitter.

If Pepper asked _that_ question again, he would send her a photo of that painting.

Inhaling deeply, he grabbed the phone again. Peter would need him and if Tony wanted anything from him, it would be to take care of his kids, his team and his family.

Steve wouldn’t fail him. He would never fail him again.

He dialled the number, exhaling harshly.

“Pe-”

“Captain Rogers!” Peter’s voice was frantic and breathless. Steve could hear crashing in the background and the whooshing sound of Peter swinging through the air.

“Peter?” Steve jumped up, wanting to rush to the young man.

“Avengers Tower is under attack! They are attacking Stark Industries!” There was a louder crashing noise and quiet mild curse from Spiderman. “Karen says Jarvis is down! And some of her system are- crap!”

“Peter, where are you?” Steve was already in the hall, looking for Nat and almost collided with Clint, whose expression was closed off, showing Hawkeye ready for business.

“Stark Industries is under attack.” Clint bit out, already turning on his heels again, while Peter answered.

“I’m on the ground floor, trying to help the security team.”

“What do you see?” Because while Peter was young and not an Avengers just yet, he was brilliant, fast thinking and had a trustworthy gut feeling.

Hawkeye threw him a glance, saw the phone and his eyebrows rose.

“They all wear black combat gear, are heavily armed and – hey! That isn’t nice! What would you do if- oh crap.”

Another crash, the metallic scream of metal on metal and then shots.

“Peter!”

“I’m fine, just one second.”

More shots, more crushing and a pained grunt. Steve bit hard enough on his lip to draw blood and stopped himself from demanding an answer.

“Stop struggling. You’re not getting out.” Peter growled. There was more noise in the background and Steve guessed that he was swinging somewhere else. Hopefully somewhere safe. But he was his father’s son.

Steve followed Clint into the living room where a newscast was showing the Tower. People ran on the streets, police was just arriving and it was a perfect picture of chaos. The volume was low, subtitles providing information.

“I’m not sure how many there are but at least thirty to forty people. There are some hurt and-”

“What about Jarvis?”

Natasha and Bruce both turned sharply, the Black Widow glaring dangerously while Bruce looked gutted.

“Karen?” Peter prompted, a thumping sound and a pained exhale, as if he was thrown into a wall.

“He sent a warning signal that was stopped roughly 3.6 seconds later. Since then I’m unable to reach him and use all of my systems.” A female voice answered primly, even if there was a hint of fear in it.

“Is he…” Steve didn’t know how to name it. Was he down? Was he… dead, like-

Hawkeye and Black Widow stepped closer, both emanating ten shades of pissed off, murderous threat and the willingness to finally _do something_.

“He is down, probably hacked.” Peter answered, breathing heavily. “I tried to get to the server room but-” He yelped, hopefully more surprised than pained before a loud crashing sound of glass cut him off. A second later on the screen, Spiderman was thrown out of a window of the foyer of Stark Tower. He fell to the ground and jumped up in one of the rolling motions.

“Peter?”

“I’m fine.” Peter grunted, but Steve saw the slight limb of the kid. It didn’t stop him to throw him back into the fight inside of the foyer.

“Happy is organizing the security teams.” Peter huffed, the fighting noises in the background getting louder again.

“Peter-”

„Shield is on his way.” The Black Widow murmured, a phone jammed between her ear and shoulder while Luca handed her a Stark-pad.

Clint was kneeling before Bruce, quietly talking to him, obviously trying to calm the genius.

“Peter, Shield is on his way. Wait until-”

Loud shouts interrupted Steve but what almost made him freeze was the quiet whimper of pain from Peter. He knew that Spider Man had a healing factor rivalling his own. It didn’t change the fact that he was a teenager and shouldn’t be there alone. The Avengers should be there and-

“Peter?” He asked demanding, while turning to Nat, covering the phone with a hand. “It was a set up!”

The Black Widow looked up at him with a glare that clearly stated he should have figured it out sooner. He should have. Of course, he should have. Whoever was in the tower was most likely connected if not the same group that had kidnapped Tony. That meant that not only had they successfully gotten the Avengers out of their home, they were ready to kill someone who was still useful to them. They would kill Peter without a second of hesitation.

“I’m good.” Peter wheezed and it was more than obvious that no, he wasn’t.

“Dr. Foster?”

Steve looked over to Bruce, who had another phone pressed to his ear, Clint standing beside him, a supportive hand on his shoulder but before Steve could verify that Bruce was trying to find out if they could get Thor in on this, an explosion went off on his phone and a second later a shockwave on the fifth floor of Stark Tower blew out all the windows, showering passengers, police and the fire department in debris and broken glass.

“Peter!” Steve shouted and almost choked on the silence from the other end. He didn’t know where Peter had been. He didn’t know what to do, how to-

Coughing, groaning and Steve visibly slumped.

“Are you hurt?”

More coughing, the sound as if something heavy was moved and a shaky exhale.

“I might have hit my head, but I’m fine.”

Steve didn’t need to ask Karen to confirm that that was bullshit. Peter’s voice was a little wobbly and him even admitting to being hurt was a giant red flag.

He had to get Peter out of there. Right now. He had to make sure that he didn’t get hurt even further and-

“Peter?”

“’m here.”

“You can still fight?” Steve could only hope Tony wouldn’t come back as a ghost to haunt him for that question. The murderous glares he received from his team members were enough to let him know that just might work.

“You know the secret none-tech-way to get to T- the workshop?” He choked on Tony’s name and prayed to god that Peter wouldn’t hear it.

“Yes?” Peter asked, suspiciously.

“Get down there. Without Jarvis running they shouldn’t be able to get in.” Because Tony had made _sure_ that if Jarvis was taken out only Tony himself would get into his shop. There were so many failsafe’s they would need hours if not days to break in.

“Whatever they want, it’s most likely in the workshop.” He choked. “I don’t want to ask you this, but-”

“I’ll do it!”

“Be careful, Peter.” Steve urged. “And stay on the line.”

“Of course.” The teen agreed. In the background he could here running noises, the far away sounds of fighting, shots and screams, before all went eerily silent.

“Peter?” He asked again, feeling like he had said that name more often in the last minutes than in the almost one hundred years previously.

There was no immediate answer and he kept his eyes fixed on the television screen. Black cars were arriving and Shield agents poured out of them, starting to secure the perimeter, pushing the civilians and press back while others charged into the lobby of Stark Industries.

“Steve.”

He glanced at Nat who held out the tablet. It showed four windows of body cams running into the destroyed remains of what had been their home – or at least the entry to it.

“Fury will be at the scene in a couple of minutes.” She whispered, her eyes trained on the screen.

“Peter?” He asked again, even more urgent than before, trying hard not to start panicking. On the one hand. On the other he didn’t think he had the energy left to do it.

He let his eyes wander to Bruce who just hung up, meeting his gaze, his eyes blazingly green. He shook his head once, avoiding to look at the screen in front of him.

For the first time Steve acknowledged the bustling of people, not only Luca and her sisters behind them, whispering in German, English and other languages to each other and on the phone. Steve didn’t care. They were as useless as the Avengers were just now.

“Happy is on his way to our floors.” Clint hissed, his face scrunched up in fury.

Steve nodded and opened his mouth to demand that Peter _fucking_ answer him right now, when he finally did.

“I’m in the vents.” The voice was quiet, tight. “I screwed the cover back on the vent as best as I could.” Peter moved almost soundlessly and now, far enough from the fighting, Steve couldn’t use it anymore to hide his frustration and fear that kept bleeding into his voice no matter how hard he tried to keep it out.

Forcing himself to sound calm and in control, he exhaled. “Good. That’s good Peter. Get down there and hold your ground, okay? Whatever you see, you tell me immediately, okay? Happy will get you when it’s over.”

“Okay, Cap.” There was a small smile in the kid’s voice and it sounded so much like Tony, it felt like a gut punch.

“Shield is already in the Tower-” Nat held the tablet out again, showing different situations of combat, one checking a still body and one overwhelming an attacker.

“They will get the situation under control and then-”

“You’ll send Happy down, I know, Captain Rogers. I promise I’ll keep the workshop safe! One thing less Mr. Stark has to worry about when you bring him home, right?”

Steve all but doubled over. The only reason he didn’t were Natasha’s and Clint’s hands grabbing his shoulders holding tight before he could crumble.

Nat didn’t wait for Steve to start breathing again. Instead she stole the phone from his grasp, instructing Peter how to get to the workshop, asking questions about his injuries Steve should have asked, while Clint held onto Steve.

His grip was bruising, Steve was sure. Not that he cared. Not that the bruises would be there long. Not that it mattered.

“Steve.”

He looked up into the brown eyes of Bruce, still tinged in the acid green, but showing a kindness and understanding that was pure Bruce. But Steve couldn’t stand it.

He let both men shove him onto the couch. Let them hold onto him, while on the TV screen the first body bags and culprits in cuffs were dragged out of the building and shoved into none descriptive black vans from Shield.

The fire department and paramedic started to advance.

He watched as Stark Industry employees were ushered out, some of them hurt.

He didn’t glance at Natasha, as she directed Peter and coordinated some of the Shield agents.

He didn’t glance at Clint, when he got a call from Happy. Didn’t even react when Happy reported that he found some attackers trying to get onto the Avenger’s floors. They were protected with similar measures as the workshop so Steve wasn’t surprised that they hadn’t been able to get in.

Happy had shot them both.

Steve didn’t care.

He focused on the warmth of the two hands on his shoulders. Focused on the painful grip. On the slight tremble in Bruce’s.

He listened to Natasha’s voice whenever she spoke to Peter. Her tone becoming calming, almost warm even if the deadness under it didn’t go away. But Peter wouldn’t hear it.

Clint turned to Steve, raising an eyebrow and Steve had no clue what was going on. When Clint realized, he turned away, starting to mutter. But of course, Steve heard it loud and clear.

He was informing Happy.

He heard the agonized _No!_ that Happy almost shouted.

Endured the dead silence that Clint let answer it.

Closing his eyes, Steve gave himself three minutes.

One to break down. He curled in on himself, letting out shuddering exhales and sucking in painful breaths.

One to suffer. He held his breath, clenching his eyes shut and filled the void in his head with screaming. With accusations.

One to pull him back together. He sat back up, exhaling slowly. He opened his eyes. On the screen was still chaos, but it was the organized chaos of an operation being wrapped up after everything went downhill.

Bruce squeezed his shoulder and Steve, not looking at the other man, nodded.

They were all in this together. He hadn’t forgotten. It didn’t matter how alone he felt, he wasn’t. He had to cling to that.

“Peter, Happy is waiting for you. Can you get out without being seen?”

Steve didn’t hear the answer but he almost saw the eyeroll of the teenager.

“Good. Tell no one where you have been.” Something in her voice had Steve turning to look at her. She was standing straight enough that she could have been a statue. Hiding all of her feelings behind a firm mask of control but still, Steve thought he had heard unease in her tone. Not agony and fury, murderous rage or devastation but unease as if something else was amiss.

“He is on the second floor. It’s clear. Let him check you and then get back to May.” There was a pause. “Yes, I know you can help, but what would your aunt say, if we let you work while you were hurt.” She stiffened even further. “See. He would rip us a new one, little spider.” She hung up and pressed her chin to her chest in a gesture of defeat and pain Steve had never seen her use.

Steve opened his mouth, not knowing what he wanted to say or ask. He knew he should comfort her, but he didn’t know how. Sometimes the only person who was allowed to touch her was Clint. Sometimes the only person she accepted near her had been Tony. Steve didn’t know how to help her.

Clint, with a grim expression, stepped closer to her, gingerly placing a hand on her arm.

The phone in her hand rang again and she straightened. Without looking at Steve, she answered.

“Yeah we saw it. No Peter and Happy are safe. Peter is going back to his aunt and- no, not right now. We told Happy.” There was a longer pause. “Of course. As soon as we know something, we’ll call. We will, Pepper. I promise you.” The last words were as binding as an oath written in blood.

Natasha hung up and turned, meeting her teammates eyes. Hers were dark and closed off. Still, some of the hurt that had wrapped around all of them was showing in glimpses in the darkened green.

“Pepper and Rhodes are flying back to New York.”

None of them reacted. She had to. She was the CEO. Her employees needed her. Tony’s company needed her. It was good that Rhodes would be with her. They would need each other.

Steve tried to push down the traitorous thought that they abandoned Tony. Didn’t they do more than he did? They protected his legacy, proving to the world that Tony Stark had changed it and that his company would keep changing it for the better.

And what did Steve do? Breaking down. Again.

“We found the location.”

All of them jumped at the voice, calm and sure. Luca was standing a little closer, while the other people were looking at all of them. Steve ignored the knowing looks, the sympathy and stony expressions.

“Where?” His voice was toneless, almost threateningly so, but the woman didn’t bat an eye.

She held out a phone, already showing a location. “It’s about two hours from here.”

Two hours later, the Avengers, or what was left of them, stepped out of the car Luca had lend them. Another car with back up was parked beside them. They went in first, taking the basement, while Captain America, the Black Widow and Hawkeye searched the ground floor. Bruce was waiting by the car.

They found the room the videos had been shot in. The bodies were gone and so was most of the blood. Natasha declared it a sloppy clean up. Clint added it was most likely someone would come back later to clean it more thoroughly.

The other team cleared the first floor while Steve followed Nat down into the basement. They found two cells that looked ‘lived in’. Which meant it was blood in both of them that couldn’t be older than a couple days. They found a room that looked like there had been some tech in it. And one room that Steve didn’t even set foot into, turning as soon as he saw the blood pattern on the ground.

Luca’s people took samples, promising they would call back as soon as they knew anything. Steve didn’t ask how they would be able to confirm whether or not it would be Tony’s blood. He didn’t ask why they seemed to care so much. Even if it was the German way of expressing it. Tight nods, set expressions and unemotional promises that Steve knew would be kept. If only because the Black Widow would go after them if not.

“Do you wanna have the first shift?” Aaron, a brother of Luca, asked, his dark brown eyes almost warm.

“Yes.” Steve said, turning away from him. They stood outside. Clint was already moving the car so it wouldn’t be visible from the street.

“Okay. We’ll be back in a couple of hours.” Aaron promised, before following his team.

Steve just stood there, not seeing anything, not hearing anything. Not feeling anything.

Later he would learn that Bruce was trying to reach Jarvis without success.

He would learn that Natasha had asked the other team to bring them food, because Steve needed it.

He would see bruises all over Clint and Natasha, because they had expressed their emotions in a hard, long training fight that had gone of script somewhere.

Right now, he just stared in the emptiness, trying to accept it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> As always: your comments give me life! I got my first critical one and even that was really interesting from a learning perspective. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think :D
> 
> Oh and if anyone is interested, here is the link to the painting Steve looked at after his call with Pepper. A friend painted it, it's called "Weltenuntergang" which could be translated to "worlds ending". Here is the [link to the painting](https://queenofalotofdifferentworlds.tumblr.com/post/632877064419164160/winter-has-come-for-tony-stark-chapter-1)


	11. Winter: Cooperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter tries to understand the target ...Tony... and some more plot happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> this is a lot less angsty then the other one so I'm not going to warn you :)
> 
> Enjoy!

Winter was confused. That in itself seemed to happen more frequently since he started to think. And it got worse since he started to make decisions. Winter thought it made sense even if it was annoying.

And it got even worse when he met the target. …Tony.

He glanced back on the smaller man. He was still breathing calmly. Winter checked all fifteen to thirty seconds. Even if he heard him breathing, heard the heartbeat if he concentrated on it.

But he was afraid. Not of the target. He wasn’t in a state to hurt Winter. And his actions up to this point were… kind. He hadn’t hurt Winter. He hadn’t even show fear of Winter. He had tried to protect Winter. It didn’t matter that he had failed. He had stood up to the handler for _Winter_.

He had thought about it. The target was smart. He must have known he had been in no condition to fight them. Still, he had done it.

Winter was afraid for the target. It had taken him some time to understand the knot in his stomach. The heaviness and the weight strangling his lungs. It got better, easier when he was closer to the target. When he could make sure the other man was safe. (It had taken him about an hour. Now, several later, he was almost calm again.)

Feelings, he was also learning, were exhausting.

He should be planning what to do next. Since he started to make decisions it seemed there was no way back. He had declared war with Hydra. Had walked out of the handlers taking with him what they so desperately wanted. They would hunt him. They would try to get to him. To break him again.

He didn’t want a way back. He would rather kill himself. He would kill them both before he allowed either of them to get captured by the handlers. He wouldn’t let himself be taken again. He wouldn’t let them take away his mind again.

He wouldn’t let them take away the target either. Wouldn’t let them break the target. Wouldn’t let them kill his _light_. Not the one shining in his eyes with an unbroken will even if he was drugged or had to know that there was no way to escape and not the one shining in his chest.

Winter had thought about that, too. The target must be a little bit like Winter. Someone had done that to him. It would explain the way he could take the pain. It would explain the way he reacted to the handler.

The target, Winter decided, must be stronger than him. Not physically. He could break the target without trying – something he could never forget. His mission was to keep the target safe and that included not harming him in any way.

This was a mission he had no problem putting first. Not that he had had with the missions from the handlers. But this, he wanted to do. He wanted to succeed. He _wanted_ to protect the target. He _needed_ him to be safe because Winter had decided the target was _his_. (The target …Tony had said they were friends.)

That was important. You kept safe what was yours. You protected and guarded what was yours and Winter would keep the target safe. He would make sure he wouldn’t be as easily taken again, would make sure that he didn’t get hurt.

Winter was almost sure that this was going to be a mission that would be completed. He would have to fight the target on it. Not physically, of course. But the target was strong in his own way and Winter would have to learn to stand up to him. Because glowering and threatening didn’t seem to work. Something else Winter had to look out for if he wanted to keep the target safe in the future. It didn’t seem that he had a self-preservation instinct.

Even Winter had been taught to keep himself functional.

Winter glanced back to the unconscious man. He had fought him tooth and nail on contacting his _team_. Winter couldn’t let him. The Avengers weren’t part of Hydra. Neither were Pepper Potts or James Rhodes. He knew that. But he also knew that there were agents close to them. To keep an eye on them. They had informed the handler when Tony Stark would be where. There was no way to ensure that they wouldn’t let anything slip. There was no way to be sure they would hide their knowledge or believe that there were spies in their organizations. And because of that there was no way he would let the target… Tony get into contact with them.

He knew that they had done something to the target’s… Tony’s computer. He knew that there was a plan to do something now that the Avengers were distracted. And because Winter had taken Tony away they would react sooner. They would hunt them.

They always did. He knew. He had been the hunter a couple of times that he remembered.

That was why Winter needed a plan. As soon as …Tony found out what would happen he would try to fight them. Based on Winter’s observations, his psychological profile and reports from other kidnappings it was a small miracle that Tony Stark hadn’t tried more to run. Would he try?

That thought made something new in Winter twitch. It was a bad feeling and he tried to ignore it. He wouldn’t let the target go. It was his mission to keep him safe and the target of a mission had no say in it.

Even if …Tony wouldn’t care if he had a say in it or not. He would say whatever he wanted anyway. Winter was sure that had nothing to do with him telling …Tony that he was his new mission. Even if Winter didn’t know a lot about himself, how feelings worked or why he started to change, he had been trained to read people. And the target was… different.

Once again, he glanced down at the target and almost flinched. He was awake and looked back at him. Big brown eyes, too trusty, still hazy from the drugs.

“Water?” …Tony croaked and Winter moved, handing him a water bottle he took without checking.

That was something Winter needed to train him out of. Sure, Winter had told him he would protect the target. But that was no reason to _trust him_. He could be lying! He could drug or poison …Tony! Heck, he had kidnapped him the day before yesterday.

There was a lot of things Winter had to teach the target… Tony for the unlikely case of him getting taken under Winter’s watchful eyes. (Because unlike the Avengers he would make sure the smaller man wouldn’t been taken. Again. He didn’t react to the same bad feeling curling in his stomach. The target was _his_. His to protect and to keep safe. And he would do that.)

…Tony put the bottle down, leaning with his back against the wall. He looked exhausted and he moved careful even if nothing in his face showed the pain his injuries were causing.

“…thanks.”

Winter raised an eyebrow.

“That… I had a… a panic attack. You know that. Happens, you know? It was… good. You tried to help. Thanks. Next time… I… There are techniques to help. I’ll show you.” The brown eyes were fixed on the floor and his voice was small, almost timid.

Winter felt better at once. He would show Winter how he could help! That would probably help Winter and he would be able to help …Tony! And it meant Tony planned to keep Winter around. Of course, Winter would be around whether the target wanted it or not, but that was… better. So much better.

It would be stupid to not use his skills, of course, and …Tony wasn’t stupid. Winter would be happy to work for him. As long as he would be able to keep him safe.

“So…” Big brown eyes looked up, capturing Winter’s gaze. He had never seen anyone look at him with _trust_. Without fear. With an almost smile dancing on his lip. It was almost frightening.

“What’s the plan?”

And he asked Winter about his opinion!

“Need to get supplies.”

Tony nodded. “That’s right, Buttercup, but what are we doing because of Hydra? I get that you don’t want to call the others, I do. But I have to call them! I have to warn them. They are in danger!” His voice didn’t get louder. He didn’t demand. But Winter could hear the pain in his voice. He could hear his fear and need.

If Winter wanted to make sure that …Tony wouldn’t try to do something stupid he had to come up with a plan. The Avengers, if trustworthy, could be allies in protecting the target. The files on them were promising even if they had let him out of their sight.

Still, he couldn’t trust anyone he was too far away to put a bullet in if need be. …Tony trusted them. But it seemed he also trusted Winter. So, he was probably not trustworthy in judging who to trust.

“Get supplies. Better location.”

“And then?” …Tony raised his eyebrow expectantly. It was a weird feeling. Not bad, but… different.

“Will think of... how to contact … Tony’s team.”

The radiant smile was worth the fear that raised through him when he realized he had to make that concession.

“Great, thank you, Buttercup!” …Tony’s voice had changed. There was gratefulness? Hope? Different positive emotions in it. Winter liked it. Like he liked the way Tony called him _Buttercup_. Like he was still awed that Tony would ask what Winter wanted to be called.

“I have one rule though and there is no breaking that rule, okay, Buttercup?”

Winter stiffened. “What rule?”

“There is going to be no killing and no hurting people that are not actively trying to kill or hurt either one of us, okay?” …Tony looked serious. His expression was still kind, still warm and open, but there was a finality in his tone that Winter knew he meant what he said. It was the strength Winter had been thinking about. He had to know that he had no chance whatsoever against Winter. Still, he didn’t seem to care in the slightest, not questioning whether or not Winter would follow that rule.

“If there is a situation that isn’t life or death for either one of us and you can subdue them, you do that. If you’re uncertain if it is necessary to hurt or kill, you ask me. Okay?”

These were simple instructions. He could do that. He nodded.

“That doesn’t mean I want you to get hurt, okay? If you have to protect yourself, you do that! But killing and hurting people is bad. I know you know that. You protected me. But protecting me is not worth killing or hurting innocents, okay?”

Winter wasn’t so sure he could agree with that as easily as with the rest. But the brown eyes spoke volumes. They were haunted, afraid and hard as steel.

Winter nodded again. “Protecting.”

“Yes.” …Tony smiled, softly. “We protect people. If you want to, you can become an Avenger, I’m sure. Then you’ll be one of the team.” The smile was almost sad and Winter wanted to ask what happened, but he didn’t know how.

“Okay.” Pushing himself up on unsteady legs …Tony stood. “Let’s get moving, Buttercup. We have a world to save.”

Twenty-five minutes later they were in another small city when they neared a traffic light that just turned red. Winter slowed the car when his focus was captured by the big information screen on the other side of the road. It showed a clip from what could have been a video camera. Even with the bad angle he knew it was Avengers Tower. Right then Spider-Man was flung through a window, rolling over the ground before jumping up again. His left leg seemed to be injured. The camera tried to follow the superhero movements as he flung himself back into the building.

The caption under the video was _Wo sind die Avengers? Where are the Avengers?_

Tony beside him chocked on air. Before Winter could react, he had jumped out of the still rolling car. If Winter’s heart hadn’t almost stopped at that, he would have been impressed. Not many people could move fast enough to get away from him. (He would have to train the target to get stealthier and he had to train himself to keep an even closer eye on …Tony.)

Driving the car on the curb, he parked it and got out, following the other man over the street. He was still staring at the screen, that showed an explosion in the tower. The caption mentioned at least sixteen victims and a lot more people with injuries.

The target was too focused to see the man that stepped into his way. He bumped into him, obviously not hearing the swear.

This most likely was a situation …Tony had talked about earlier. So, all Winter did was glare at the man that had bumped into his target. The man paled and hurried along.

Stepping beside Tony he glanced at the expression of the other man. It was blank, a mask to hide his feelings, but his eyes screamed fear in a way Winter hadn’t seen before. He held himself rigid. It must have hurt but he didn’t seem to care, staring up at the screen that now showed a short clip of black cars driving away.

“Shield.” …Tony muttered, fury in his voice. He looked up at Winter and for a heartbeat Winter forgot that the other man was injured, was most likely not half as strong as Winter and had not once tried to hurt him. For that heartbeat he understood why Hydra was afraid of him.

“Let’s go.” He ordered and Winter would have followed that tone even if he hadn’t already decided to follow the target as long as his orders didn’t compromise his safety.

They got into the car, the target staring on ahead, listening to the radio. They repeated the information, speculating where the Avengers where, what had happened and what it meant for the world at large. They questioned what terrorist organization would be bold enough to attack Avengers Tower. There was a short statement issued by Pepper Potts informing the world that Stark Industries was in mourning for their colleagues and that the CEO would give a press conference the next day.

The target didn’t say a word when Winter parked in front of an apothecary. He didn’t react. Winter didn’t want to leave him in the car, but he did.

Winter got out and walked over, forcing his mannerism to resemble a normal person. He had learned to do that. It felt weird.

Hydra’s file on Spider-Man was thin and not very informative. …Tony seemed to care for him. He also seemed to care for the people in Avenger’s Tower.

He seemed to care for everyone. Even Winter.

Getting what was legally available, he paid and got out of the store.

His heart almost stopped when he saw the target holding a smartphone in his hand, obviously talking to someone.

No!

Winter took off running, ripped the passenger door open, ignored the startled expression of the target, grabbed the phone and destroyed it with his metal hand.

Whatever would happen, he wouldn’t let Hydra get them. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t! _He wouldn’t_!

Panic clawed at his mind but right now he had to do his job. To keep his target safe. Whether or not he would cooperate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all my brilliant, wonderful, amazing readers! Especially to all of you people who comment on every chapter. Thank you so damn much!


	12. Tony: 101 of Friendships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony knows he has to do something and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> because I love you all I got up an hour early, finished this chapter and posted it. Apparently getting your sweet comments is more important than sleep... is there like a fanfic writer anonymous or something I can get help?
> 
> Enjoy!

Tony knew how it felt when his heart failed to keep up the rhythm that was supposed to keep him alive. He knew the feeling of his lungs constricting because there was no oxygen left and he needed air. He knew the pain of getting beaten, shot and tortured.

It all seemed to be nothing compared to the moment he saw Peter crashing through one of the glass walls to the entry hall of Avengers Tower.

He didn’t remember jumping out of the driving car. He didn’t remember running over the street. His gaze was too focused on the screen that showed his company being attacked. His home being attacked. His _kid_ being injured and trying to protect it all because Tony wasn’t there. Because the Avengers weren’t there because he, once again, had to be fucking kidnapped.

His brain, giving him the short seconds of blank panic, went back online. He saw the guy slip his smartphone – an iPhone, it was almost a sacrilege for him to think about stealing it, because who in their right mind would steal an _iPhone_ , but right now other things were more important – back into his jacket pocket and stepped into his way. He bit down on the hiss of pain when the other man collided with his injured shoulder, using the moment of outrage from him to slip the phone into his own pocket. He had learned to do that in his childhood after one too many kidnappings. Ironic that. Or was it tragic?

He kept his eyes on the screen and flinched painfully – literally – when they cut to another scene and an explosion shook Avengers Tower.

_Peter!_

It took all of his willpower to not call Jarvis at that very second. He bit hard enough on his tongue to draw blood. He kept biting down.

Winter would leave him alone for at least a minute to get whatever supplies he needed. In that time, he would call them. He would call them all. This had to end. And they had to get back to New York. Right now!

Tony wasn’t sure if it was his panic, the concussion, the Stockholm syndrome he was most likely experiencing or his very last marble he just lost, that told him he was safe with Winter. Up until now he was right – ignoring the fact that if Winter hadn’t fucking kidnapped him in the first place some of what was happening right now wouldn’t be happening right now.

But the plan – and Tony _knew_ all of this had been planned probably for months – would have been executed anyway. And Winter, Tony was sure of that – even if he really couldn’t be – had nothing to do with it. Hell, he was a small, almost innocent looking murder puppy… Tony really was losing it.

Still, he had appeared to be honest and understanding when Tony had explained his rule. Eager even. Like Dummy when he was trusted with a new tool. Now, all Tony had to hope that Winter had more common sense when his idiotic helperbot.

What the hell was Tony doing?

Focusing back on the screen, he stiffened. The black cars around the entrance to SI where Shield cars. The people getting in and started driving where Shield agents. Or Hydra spies.

The cold, hard, unforgiving rage didn’t cover his fear. It enhanced it. There were more of those fuckers in SI. They endangered _his people_. _His family_! He would find every single one of them and then he would return to the early days of his superheroing and fucking destroy them all.

Winter stepped beside him and Tony met his eyes. There was a flicker in the blue ones but Tony couldn’t care. Not right now. He didn’t want to hurt Winter. He wanted to give him all the time he needed. He did.

But he couldn’t wait much longer. This was about his _family_. About his team, his employees, everyone he loved and cared about and he couldn’t – could not! Would not! – hold back. Not even for someone who deserved all the patience and care in the world after what he had been put through for more than seven decades by creatures that were supposedly human beings. Tony doubted it.

Later, when he would be thinking clearly again, when the rage and fear didn’t try to suffocate him, he would explain to Winter why he had to rush him.

“Let’s go.” He ordered and he almost flinched. Winter didn’t deserve that. He fucking deserved better.

They got into the car and he listened to the German newscast on the radio. He barely reacted to any of it. Sixteen dead. An unidentified number injured. Some in critical condition. Pepper had issued a statement and would give a press conference the following day. No news about Spider Man.

Tony didn’t move when Winter parked the car. He didn’t look up when Winter glanced at him. He waited until he got out and entered the apothecary. For a heartbeat longer, he waited for Winter to come back out. When it didn’t happen, he took the iPhone out – inferior tech – and tried to reach Jarvis, issuing his emergency code.

Nothing happened.

He waited a few more seconds, biting down on the growing panic. What had they done to his AI? They had to have done something to him, because Jarvis would react to this code immediately, no matter what else he did. He would track his location, alert his team, Pepper and Rhodey and someone trustworthy somewhere close as soon as they was deemed trustworthy. And he would always, _always_ , answer.

He didn’t. Tony’s heart constricted. If they had hurt Jarvis, he would kill them all. No one laid a hand on his youngest son and lived to talk about it.

With trembling hands, he used another emergency code, this one even older, something Rhodey and he had decided on when they had still been in MIT and Tony wanted to make sure Rhodey would be able to get in contact with Tony if he needed help in the field. They had used it only six times since then. It was a basic scream for help and all he could send with it was the message _spies – careful_. It wasn’t enough to explain the situation, but definitely enough to get Rhodey’s attention.

Tony glanced out of the window while simultaneously initiating a video call to Steve. They wouldn’t have enough time for anything substantial (like the panicked screaming in his head for _Peter_ and _Jarvis_ ). But he had to tell him about the spies. Whatever Winter’s desertion would mean for Hydra, it was more than obvious that it had sped up their plans.

The call connected and Tony looked down on the screen to see Steve’s expression change from a frown to open shock. Any other day Tony would have laughed – or most likely panicked because Steve looked like hell. He had dark circles under his eyes, devastation written in his eyes and hopelessness practically screaming from his expression – until he saw Tony.

He opened his mouth, but Tony was faster – naturally.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I don’t have much time. There are spies in Shield, SI the military, probably most governments and-”

The passenger door was ripped open and before Tony could do much more than startle and glance at Winter the phone was grabbed from his hand and destroyed with one squeeze of the metal hand from the Winter Soldier. His expression was a war between blind and naked fear on the one side and righteous fury on the other.

Before Tony could react, the Winter Soldier had banged the car door shut and was already getting in on the driver’s side.

Tony didn’t say a word. The Winter Soldier didn’t either.

Steve had looked terrible. What if something was with Peter? What if Jarvis was not only offline but- What if someone else got hurt because of Tony?

Trying to get his spiralling thoughts under control was a losing battle on most good days, so Tony didn’t try for control. He just buried them under fury. Winter was pissed? Well, so was he.

If he was generous – and right now Tony didn’t feel particularly generous – he could understand Winter. He even understood his, as it seemed, obsession with Tony. He was most likely the first person he could remember that treated him like a fucking human being. And wasn’t that just sad. Winter would probably die of shock when he met actually nice and caring people. Like Steve.

That brought Tony back to his fury. Steve had looked like shit and he was too gorgeous to look like that! The world was about to end – or Hydra at least would attempt just that – and Winter wanted to play it safe? Tony had to do _something_! He should have done something months ago when he had seen the first irregularity in Shield’s files. He should have had a closer eye on SI. How could he have been so blind _again_!

Only minutes later Winter parked the car on a parking lot beside a super market and a bus stop.

Without saying a word, he got out, grabbing the things he needed. Tony was apparently part of that. The metal hand dug hard into his arm, hurrying him along. He didn’t try to fight him, knowing full well that wouldn’t end well.

Tony bit down on all signs showing how weak and injured he really was. It didn’t matter. Whatever had the Winter Soldier in a fucking fit wouldn’t be good to experience – if it wasn’t just another panic attack – and after the shit he just pulled there was no way this wouldn’t end in either a screaming match, a physical fight or – most likely – his murder by brainwashed assassin. That, of course, would be bad as he had to help Steve. As soon as he knew _who_ was behind all this he would break and Tony had to be there. Not that he would be particularly helpful, just… he couldn’t bear the thought of Steve trying to do it on his own.

Winter dragged him through a neighbourhood with small houses, small front yards with flowers and, as far as Tony could see in the twilight, no security measures whatsoever. At one of those suburban nightmares, Winter stopped, dragging him towards the front door.

Tony knew what had attracted Winter’s interest. Like idiots, the people had letters and newsletters sticking out of their mailbox.

For a heartbeat Tony thought about protesting but it would be better to have their screaming match somewhere inside.

While Winter broke into the house in three seconds flat and without outwardly visible damaging the door – impressive even if Tony couldn’t really appreciate it right now – he grabbed all of the visible mail and took it inside, letting it fall of a small side table in the hall.

Breathing was hard. Mostly because of the emotions still strangling him. He would only acknowledge the rage.

Winter dragged him further in, before pushing him towards an uncomfortable looking couch.

“Sit.” He growled out and Tony – not even trying to hold back, lost it.

“I’m not a fucking dog, Winter. Either you give me the fucking courtesy of _talking_ to me or you don’t speak to me. But most importantly you don’t give me orders!” The scathing tone he used was one of his most destructive weapons. He didn’t care. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.

The Winter Soldier, a feared assassin, murmured to be a ghost – and whoever had come up with that comparison hadn’t been that far off, had they? – took a step back. For a moment the fear on his face won, screaming out of his blue eyes, before he squared his shoulders. It took him a moment longer to formulate words and Tony – despite himself – let him have the time he needed.

“Protect!” He growled, feelings lacing that word and if Tony wouldn’t care in the least, he would have called the glowering menacing.

“This is not protecting!”

“Protect!”

“No! It’s another form of kidnapping! It’s another form of hurting!”

This time, Winter took two steps back, looking stricken and Tony almost gave in to those hurt eyes.

“It doesn’t matter that you mean to do something good, Winter. There is no thanks-for-trying-trophy in life. You can’t push people around like that.” He took a deep breath, trying to find something to say, something to safe this situation because, despite him still believing Winter wouldn’t actually hurt him, he couldn’t be sure. Especially if he pushed himself in the ‘handler-category’ – and if he did, he deserved whatever was coming to him.

“You want to protect me, right? You said it was your mission to keep me safe?”

“Yes. Keep safe.” It was almost a mumble. There was still so much fear in Winter’s expression, so much hurt, confusion and pain that Tony almost caved in.

“Why?” He asked, not especially sure this would help him in the least. Hell, shrinks wouldn’t know what they did right here. Everything in the files he had read – even if they were sadistic bullshit – hinted at Winter reverting to a childlike mindset when he wasn’t ‘recalibrated through the chair’ in regular intervals (that was something else Tony would find out and then everyone who had even once heard of it and didn’t help, would hope they had never been born). That was even worse because some of those cruel assholes had used that state to make Winter more complicit before brainwashing him again.

The point was, if Tony was right and hell knew if he was – because he didn’t do people! – Winter’s mindset was that of a child. He had been trained relentless and repeatedly enough so that the connections in his brain that remembered how to do all aspects of his job were intact, but everything that once upon a time had been James Buchanan Barnes? They were gone.

While reading the file, Tony had translated it for himself in terms of tech: The inferior super soldier serum Barnes had been injected with was able to heal the damage done to his brain. It was the repairing of the hardware. And judging by what he could see now and had read in the files it did a damn good job of it. The problem were his _memories_. They were software and those parts of him the Hydra torturers hadn’t deemed important – basically everything that made a person a person, his memories, his sense of self, his feelings and all that – were lost. Irretrievably so.

Of course, Tony couldn’t know that for sure. He was a person, not a part of tech, but his hardware – brain – had been deleted and set back to zero or frozen in cryo so many times… Tony had no hope that he would recover any of his past memories. Not his past self, not who he had been – and wouldn’t that kill Steve twice?

Tony bit down hard. Not now. This was nothing he should and could think about right now.

Focusing on the important part, he looked back at the other man. He had been trained enough to give him all those skills he used with a precision that was downright inhuman. Because it was. He had been a weapon for them for over seventy years.

But his mind was that of a child – Tony had no clue whatsoever how old that child might be and it didn’t matter anyway – and that child, that had been tortured and brainwashed and frozen again and again and again couldn’t be responsible for what was happening right now, could he?

Winter might inhabit the body of a stone-cold killing machine, but it hadn’t been _him_. It hadn’t been _him_ who killed Tony’s parents.

Winter didn’t know any better. He didn’t understand. Children learned very early on what was good and what was bad – Tony assumed. He had learned to use a gun with three… so he probably wasn’t a good example – but most children probably learned not to hit and hurt and all that crap. But Winter hadn’t been taught. Hell, it seemed he had only started to actually develop his personality weeks or days before he had kidnapped Tony.

And during that kidnapping he had killed Tony’s driver and the three goons. But he hadn’t hurt Peter. Hadn’t hurt Tony more than was necessary.

“Why, Winter? Why do you want to keep me safe?” Tony pressed. He owed it to Winter, to _Steve_ , that he wouldn’t give up on the man standing in front of him, lost and frightened and still shaking, whether because of anger or fear Tony couldn’t say.

“Target-”

“No.” Tony interrupted and Winter flinched.

“My name is Tony. You are Winter and I’m Tony. No Asset, no target. Just Winter and Tony.” His voice was calmer and Tony wouldn’t have been able to keep the warmth out of it if he had tried – and he did. “Come on, why do you want to keep me safe?”

Winter glanced up at him, his eyes wide and filled with so much innocence and honest confusion Tony, who really didn’t like to touch or be touched by people he didn’t trust – and they shouldn’t be there yet, necessary touches not counting – wanted to go and hug the frightened man.

Tony forced himself to smile. It didn’t take half as much effort as he would have guessed. That wasn’t a good sign for the stability of his mental health – especially since he was still sitting on seething wrath that _needed_ something to hit, hurt, kill.

“Tony…” He started, faltering on the single word.

Patience, as everyone would tell you, wasn’t one of the many, many gifts Tony Stark was blessed with. And they were fucking right. Still, Tony kept quiet. Waiting.

“Tony…”

“What about me?”

A shudder run through Winter and he looked down, shadowing his face behind the long strands of his hair.

“…mine to protect.” It was barely more than a mumble and it stopped Tony dead in his tracks.

“…Tony… said friend…” The mumble wasn’t any more comprehensible but there were new emotions behind it. Hope. Longing. Wonder.

If this wouldn’t kill him, there was nothing that could. Tony barely remembered waking up in a thick drugged haze declaring Winter to be his ‘bestest friend’. Oh hell.

Apparently, Winter decided that after saying all that (and for him it really was quite a lot) he could explain more – either because (judging by the defiant and at the same time accepting expression) he expected to be hurt whether or not he kept talking or because he thought Tony to be too stupid to understand.

“Keep safe what… yours. Friend.”

For one glorious moment Tony thought about just turning on his heels and leaving. This was too much. Too much pressure for someone who only on good days even acknowledged his own feelings. Too much while he was hurting and probably still kidnapped, on the run from an organisation that should have been dead for almost a century now. Too much while he didn’t know what was with Peter and Jarvis and his employees or Steve who had looked worse than Tony! Too much for the son of someone who had been killed by the man in front of him.

On the bright side, Winter’s development was expanding in leaps and bounds and if he kept progressing like this, he would be a mentally more stable person than Tony in a week.

Taking a breath and closing his eyes for just a second, Tony let his face morph in an expression he normally reserved for Peter or Rhodey or whenever he saved small children as Iron Man.

“Do you know what that means, Buttercup?”

At the use of his nickname Winter looked back into Tony’s eyes, the hope brighter in the big blues.

“To be friends means that you can’t make decisions for the other person. You don’t command or order your friends around. You’re right that you keep them safe and protect them, but you can’t make decisions for them.” That was something Tony still learned. Still had to learn, because sometimes people made stupid decisions. He knew that he wasn’t much better – and that Winter probably thought him to be amazingly stupid to call the others, but the finer lines of bullshitting and hypocrisy would be a bit much right now. 

“…dangerous…”

“I know.” And he did. He just didn’t fucking care. “But what you feel right now? It’s what my other friends are feeling since you took me.”

Winter’s forehead threw wrinkles as he frowned. As he was thinking about it, Tony forced himself to give the other man time to come to a conclusion. Hell, most of the time it was everyone else giving Tony the kindergarten-lectures about feelings. Take that everyone who said Tony hadn’t been listening!

“…bad?” Winter asked timidly and Tony bit back on the first response that came to mind.

“Yeah. They are feeling bad. And I’m feeling bad, because I know they are feeling bad. And I know they are in as much danger as we are.”

“…dangerous…”

“Yes, I know Winter, but they are in danger, too. You want to protect me, because I’m your friend” or he might could be some day “and I want to protect them because they are my friends, too.”

Winter’s expression changed, but before he could say anything else, his mannerism changed back into the Winter Soldier. Said Winter Soldier surged forward, grabbing Tony and forced him behind the couch, hiding Tony with his body.

Tony, as he really was a certified genius, needed only like ten seconds to realize the cold fear of the assassin that pressed him down and was obviously somewhere else with his thoughts.

Trying to ignore his injuries flaring up and pain shooting criss-cross through his body in fucking explosions of fireworks, he tried to move Winter to see what had triggered this. Other things he could try right now: walking to the sun, catching a leprechaun, trying to teach some of his theories and inventions to pre-schoolers so that they could take over for R&D.

In other words, Winter would move when Winter thought it was a good idea to move and not a second earlier.

“Wha-”

A cold metal hand clamped down over Tony’s mouth and pressed down. Not hard enough to actually hurt, but still very much unpleasant. When he kept wriggling, Winter leaned down, putting his lips right beside Tony’s ear and whispered.

“Hydra.”

Tony stilled. He looked to his left, meeting the wide eyes of Winter. He raised a questioningly eyebrow.

For one long moment, Winter didn’t react.

Then, slowly, he moved off of Tony, hands still on him as if he was afraid Tony would jump up and call for the people that would either kill or brainwash them. True, Tony had some self-destructive tendencies, but not even he was that stupid.

Carefully, Tony pushed himself up enough to glance over the couch, retreating again immediately. A flashlight beam shined through the room. Counting to thirty, Tony looked again, Winter a still form right beside him.

In the dark the people weren’t that good to see as they all wore black gear, but the beams of light sometimes wandered over one and the pattern in which they moved were telling enough. They were looking for someone.

It could be that this was police – without uniforms – looking for someone entirely else and all of this was just the hyperactive paranoia of Winter. But Tony wasn’t that lucky.

Moving to lean against the couch out of sight, Tony exhaled inaudibly.

Even without Jarvis Tony had used protection to hide his activity when he had sent the code to Rhodey and called Steve. That meant that either he had gotten sloppy – possible but unlikely – Hydra had known what to look for – unlikely but possible if they had one of the top hackers the dark net had to offer – or someone had used either of his panic sequences to track him – almost impossible, but he had proven time and time again that _nothing_ was really impossible. So, there was that. (He didn’t even entertain the idea that they had gotten to Rhodey. He was a freaking Lieutenant Colonel and way to competent to get kidnapped.)

He glanced at Winter. He was still stiff beside him, his muscles tight and ready to leap into action, his flesh hand grabbing a gun tightly. But aside from that, he seemed to have calmed down some. Small mercies.

Waiting a little longer, he raised his eyebrow again, waiting for Winter to decide if it was safe again – if Winter would have been able to read it. When he didn’t react, Tony leaned forward, putting his lips near the assassin’s ear and asked himself when this became some summer camp bullshit and decided to not think about it too much.

“Are they gone?”

Winter leaned back, stood up and moved noiselessly through the shadows to the window. After a couple of minutes his body relaxed some.

“Gone.”

“Good.” Tony pushed himself to his knees, supporting his weight by leaning his hip against the backrest of the couch. Steve would be fucking proud of him for realizing he probably needed something to eat, to sleep, some meds and probably at least a night in medical. He wouldn’t do any of it, but at least he realized it.

Taking a calming breath, he faced Winter. “We have to plan what we do now.” Because he was trying to teach him to work together, so he had to do that. “I thought I could get in contact with the others without alarming Hydra. Someone is very good with what they are doing and on top of that they cut me off from my AI, so that’s probably not an option anymore. With enough equipment I _know_ I can get a secure line, but that would take time and we would have to steal a lot of stuff – which would get the attention from at least the police.”

The changing expressions on Winter’s face – even if it were just micro expressions – were enough to let Tony know what Winter thought exactly. He was surprised to be included in planning. He wasn’t impressed Tony had been caught, he had known they had someone good working for Hydra – hell, up until yesterday? Today? They had had one if not the best assassin working for them – and he didn’t like the idea or settling down to get a secure line. Fair enough.

“Okay, let’s think about it. We have to get in contact with my team” Tony held up a hand to stop the protest before Winter could start and kept talking “in a secure way that doesn’t get us captured or killed.” At that, Winter’s expression went blank.

“Don’t worry, Buttercup. We’re getting out of here, you’ll see. I’m the best at escaping kidnappings.”

The raised eyebrow was as much an insult as it was a sign of humour – and that Tony had to reward.

“Yeah, okay, you helped, and I’m very thankful for that, but somehow – and please explain it to me sometime later because I really don’t get why you did it – you decided to help me, so I’m counting that as a win and we’re both no longer prisoners of Hydra, so a clear win for Tony.” He smiled winningly at the other man. The answering softening of Winter’s expression was close enough to a smile Tony counted it.

“Back to the important things, Buttercup. We need a plan and something to eat. Let’s raid the kitchen of this place while deciding how to bring them down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and thank all of you AMAZING PEOPLE for leaving all those comments!
> 
> A special thanks for jinxqhuickfoot who told me how she felt about the obsessive way Bucky wants to protect Tony. 
> 
> Stay safe, stay sane and stay healthy!


	13. Steve: Alive and Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets a very important phone call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> I hope you're all feeling well! We're at the midpoint of the story and I'm not sure how I like that... but rest assured, I have already more plans :D
> 
> Enjoy!

It was just after seven pm when Aaron’s team came to relieve them. In the meantime, nothing of consequence had happened.

Steve had barely talked with the others, all of them trapped in their own minds. He knew at least Clint and Natasha would be professional enough to realize if something would have happened.

Clint, firmly wrapped in his Hawkeye persona, had perched himself in a nearby tree, his bow at the ready.

Natasha was surely somewhere. If Steve would be able to concentrate he might be able to locate the Black Widow. But he wasn’t. Sometimes she would come out of the shadows, telling him the news she got – the interrogations weren’t going great – but mostly she stayed in the shadows, waiting.

Bruce sat in the back of the car, hidden behind the house, typing furiously on a laptop. As far as Steve knew, he tried to get a connection to Jarvis and to get in contact with Jane Foster again. Judging by the growing frustration displayed by the genius, neither worked.

Steve, who had been standing mostly hidden in the growing shadows of the house, wasn’t surprised. Bruce was brilliant, just not as brilliant as Tony. Bruce was an expert in his field, but this wasn’t his field, it was Tony’s.

After hours of nothing but his downwards spiralling thoughts, the farfetched theories and the gnawing knowledge in his gut that he had to call Peter. That he had to tell Peter… The car ride was almost a welcome distraction.

Bruce and Clint were on the backseat. Nat was driving and Steve just sat there. They had shut down the radio after the moderators started to speculate where the Avengers were and why Tony hadn’t said anything yet.

Steve flinched when the almost silence was violently disrupted by his cell phone ringing.

Natasha glanced at him, worry creasing her forehead. Steve didn’t look at the backseat to see the same concern on the others’ faces.

He didn’t recognize the number but as there was no reason to think Luca and her people wouldn’t find out his number, he answered the video call.

For a single heartbeat, he was sure he had finally lost it. This couldn’t be. It couldn’t- He sucked a breath in through his teeth, feeling his spine going rigid. He didn’t care and barely noticed the car slowing, Nat looking at him, he had only eyes for _Tony_.

He looked haunted, bruises littered his face, his hair was dishevelled and started to look greasy, he needed a shave, but his eyes shone bright.

It was _his Tony_. He was ALIVE. He was right there and-

Steve opened his mouth because there was so much he wanted to say – and stuff he needed to ask. But Tony, naturally, was faster. He always was faster when it came to words.

“I’m sorry, Steve, I don’t have much time.” His voice was like a balm on Steve’s torn and infected soul, even if it sounded urgent.

The shocked and sharp inhales all around him barely registered in Steve’s mind. Just like he barely felt the seat belt cutting in his chest when Nat hit the brakes hard. All his focus was on the small rectangle showing his Tony’s face.

“There are spies in Shield, SI, the military, probably most governments and-”

There was a sound like a car door being ripped open. Tony startled, looked to his right side and Steve wasn’t sure if his expression would have morphed into shock or horror or pain, before it could, a metal hand covered the camera. There was a crushing sound that ended when the connection was cut off abruptly.

Dead silence.

No one breathed. No one moved.

Steve stared at the phone that just showed a dimming screensaver. It was a picture taken at sundown from the landing platform of Avengers Tower. Tony and he had been talking and the light had reflected in the brown eyes of the genius making them even more enchanting. Steve had wanted to ask if he could take a picture but chickened out after already getting his phone out. Instead, he had taken a photo of the skyline of New York.

Steve didn’t move. Couldn’t move. He was frozen in the inability to react to what just happened. His mind trying to protect him from knowing that Tony…

Tony was alive.

Tony was alive and as good as Steve could have hoped for. He was breathing and working and whatever had happened, it hadn’t broken him, because there had been Tony’s fire burning in the beautiful brown eyes.

Tony was being held by the Winter Soldier.

Steve had watched the video only ones, but he recognized the metal hand. It was almost impossible that even Tony had managed to get captured by someone else with a metal hand like that in the short time since the Winter Soldier carried him out of that house.

Natasha’s pained exhale of _at least he is dead_ was playing on loop in his brain. As was Tony’s voice saying his name.

“He is alive.” Bruce whispered, breaking the silence. His voice a mixture of hope and disbelief.

No one answered him. Steve almost heard the muttered _he was_.

No. Tony was alive. He was alive, he was fighting and that was enough for Steve. He would have found his body if it was the last thing he would have done but _Tony was alive_. There was still the possibility that he could save him.

They could get him back! Steve could get him back!

And when he had him he would tell him! He would tell him that he loved him and if Tony didn’t feel the same they would still live together and work together and… Tony would still be his family.

It didn’t matter, really, as long as Tony was alive and with them and _safe_. And they would keep him safe. Whatever it would take.

Steve exhaled and it felt like he could breathe again for the first time since Pepper told him that the genius had been kidnapped.

He turned, looking at Natasha and the smile that had started to form on his lips died. Her green eyes were filled with terror, dread and agony. She had lost all her masks and for a second Steve almost didn’t recognize her.

“Nat?” Clint leaned forward, placing a grounding hand on her shoulder, his voice asking several questions at the same time.

Steve glanced at Bruce, who didn’t seem to understand. They hadn’t told him about the Winter Soldier. Hadn’t told him about… Natasha hadn’t even told Steve what she had feared could have happened to Tony. Just that she was glad Tony was dead and no longer in the Winter Soldier’s _care_.

But he was still alive. Was still in the enemies’ hands and Steve… Steve was so fucking thankful. It might be selfish but _Tony was alive_! How could he not be thankful? How could he not be hopeful?

They would get Tony back. He would be able to keep his promise to Peter. Tony would be able to get Jarvis back and… and everything would be good. Tony was _strong_. The strongest person he knew and he would get through this. They would help him. Steve would help him. He would be there for the genius. (He would never let him out of his sight again as soon as they got him back no matter the threats and tantrums.)

The sooner they got started the sooner they got him back. The sooner they got him away from the Winter Soldier the sooner he would be safe.

Squaring his shoulders Steve looked back at Natasha. He knew his expression was set. It didn’t matter what heaven and hell would throw at them, they would get their genius back. They wouldn’t stop. Never.

Natasha had calmed a little, but her eyes still bleed fear and dread.

“We’re getting him back.” Steve realized he finally sounded like himself again. His words were infused with some of his Captain America no-nonsense-tone but mostly it was just him telling his family that they would be complete again.

“Of course, we will.” Clint agreed, his hand still holding on to Nat’s shoulder.

“What about… his message?” Bruce asked, not sure if that too might be something the others already talked about. It wasn’t and Steve, just now thinking about _what_ Tony had been saying, frowned.

“Spies in Shield, SI, the military, probably most governments.” Natasha recited from memory, her voice detached.

Only Tony would be able to get kidnapped and discover a world-wide threat while-

“We can’t blindly trust this information.”

Steve’s head snapped up, glaring at Natasha. She didn’t let him get a word in.

“The information could be fed to him. It could have been planted for him to find. We can’t trust that all of this wasn’t staged-”

“It was Tony! He-”

“It’s the Winter Soldier, Steve. We can’t know-”

“It was him! You didn’t see his eyes, he-”

“I want him to be fine, too, but we can’t know that he is!” Natasha almost screamed at Steve. Natasha didn’t scream. She didn’t need to. She didn’t lose control like that.

She never had before.

Her breathing was harsh and loud in the silence. “We heard about him in the Red Room.” She bit out. Her voice cold. “If he is _that_ Winter Soldier? He is better than I ever was. Better than anyone ever was. He had him for three days! Do you know what I could do in three days?”

The shuttering breath from Bruce was what almost broke Steve this time around.

He didn’t know much about the background of Natasha than the bare bones. Nothing more than what was in her file (barely anything) and what she had offered (not much more), but Steve had fought in the second World War. He knew what people could do to each other.

The call hadn’t been longer than a short few seconds but it had been Tony. Steve knew it had been Tony. Not a shell. Not a brainwashed puppet. _Tony_.

And even if it hadn’t been Tony, what would change? They would still go after him. They would still find him and-

“If it was Tony…” Clint cleared his throat, his voice calm in a way that was so dangerously unnatural for the lively archer it was almost as scary as a screaming Nat.

“If it was him, then we have to do something about the information and we can’t rely on Shield or anyone else.”

Steve knew Clint didn’t mean to abandon Tony, but if Tony was right… they were the Avengers. He was freaking Captain America. It was their duty to protect the world. It was his duty to-

Steve balled his hands to fists.

Fuck it.

Steve would stay here and if it would be on his own. He would stay right here and find Tony no matter what. This wasn’t about Captain America. This was about Steve’s Tony. If he abandoned the other man now, he would never be able to live with himself again. He had sacrificed everything he had before. He would sacrifice his life again if it was necessary, but he could not risk Tony.

“If it was Tony and this wasn’t staged-” Nat cut herself off but her tone implied everything. If what she had heard about the Winter Soldier was correct, it would mean that he would make Tony pay. Most likely in ways that would hurt and traumatize the hero without incapacitating him for too long. Like specific torture practices. Like-

“We’ll call Happy, Rhodes, whoever we trust absolutely. If anyone of you wants to go back and find out what is happening, take the Quinjet. I’m staying.” There was almost a challenge in his words. Daring any of them to tell him to leave. That they didn’t want to stay, too.

“And let you kill them on your own?” Clint drawled, dark desires lacing into his words in a show of bloodlust Steve had never heard from him. “You wish.”

“We’ll find him. And when we do…” There was a growl in Bruce’s voice and for once he was smiling while his eyes flashed acid green. “ _We_ will be happy to help.”

There was also a fair chance that Hulk would grab Tony and never let him go again. But Steve would think about how to save the genius from his big green friend when it came to that.

All eyes wandered to Natasha. Her face was a mask. She looked from one to the other until her gaze landed on Steve.

“Tony is family. I will never abandon family.” She whispered, emotions dancing in her tone that were at odds with her expressionless face. “But we have to be prepared. We don’t know what… how Tony will be when we find him.”

She was right. She always was. On any other day, Steve would be thankful that Natasha, like Tony, would play devil’s advocate, challenging him to get the best plan. To think of every possibility.

Today he didn’t want to hear it. This day felt like a century already.

“However he will be, we’ll get him through this.”

There was a flash in her eyes before she looked down, avoiding his gaze. She turned back to the steering wheel, setting the blinker and drove back onto the road.

Steve, too absorbed in Tony hadn’t even realized that she had stopped at the side of the road. Hadn’t cared. Because _Tony was alive_. He was alive, he was fighting and he was out there!

They needed a plan.

“How long till we reach Luca?”

“About thirty minutes.”

“Clint, try to get info from Shield. Don’t let them know anything.”

“On it.” Clint got his phone out, already dialling.

“Bruce, try to get in touch with Rhodes.” Steve didn’t know the man all that good, but he know Tony trusted him, loved him as a brother and he had threatened Captain America to treat Tony right or else. It was enough for Steve.

“Nat, I need Luca’s number.”

While Steve talked to Iolanda, their tech person, he listened with half an ear to Clint annoying Shield personnel and Bruce trying to reach either Rhodey or Pepper. Without luck.

“I’ll call Happy.” The genius whispered, while already pressing the phone to his ear again. At least that call connected and he informed Happy in a hushed tone. Steve didn’t have any complains about it. Happy was as loyal to Tony as any of them.

In her element, Iolanda seemed to be more confident. She didn’t talk much, but he could hear her make some humming noises while her fingers danced over the keyboard. It almost reminded him of Tony happily working in his workshop, surrounded by all the wonders he had created.

The hope thrumming along his heartbeat was weight down by everything implied that none of them had actually said. Right now, Tony could be _hurting_. He could be _tortured_. He could be- Pressing down on those thoughts, focussing on what he could do, steps he could take to save him, Steve pressed his eyes closed.

Behind his eyelids he saw his genius, bruises on his face, but the fire still burning in his eyes. Obviously not broken. Obviously thinking about what he could do. Even his message had been focused and determined. He hadn’t been able to say much, but enough to reassure Steve that it really was him and to tip them off that something was going on.

Even when the door had been opened, he hadn’t looked scared. It could be that that changed after the Winter Soldier destroyed the phone, but Steve didn’t think so. Most likely the genius had been pissed. Which, in his situation, was far worse than being afraid.

No, Steve wouldn’t go there. Tony was fighting. Tony was strong. They would find him and then-

“Meine Systeme arbeiten. Ich rufe zurück, wenn ich was gefunden habe.”

“Okay. Danke.” Steve looked towards Nat and nodded. “She is working on it.”

Natasha indicated a nod, her hands so tightly wound around the steering wheel that Steve feared she would break it.

Getting off the phone, Clint leaned forward, almost putting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. He had put the sun visor down and opened the mirror to see the two men on the backseat.

“They don’t have much. The interrogations are still going. The only thing they got out of one or two is that the time frame was sped up.”

Probably because they too had believed Tony had been killed by the Winter Soldier.

“A third party?”

Before Clint could answer, Bruce, sat up straight, his eyes going wide.

“One moment, Rhodey, I-” He was already taking the phone from his ear and pressing the speaker symbol. Immediately the frantic voice of Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes was loud enough for all of them to hear.

“-got an emergency code from Tones. He’s alive!” The relief in these words were enough to let Steve breath even easier. He could practically feel the Colonels enthusiasm.

“He sent a message with it ‘spies’ and ‘careful’. I’m trying to reach Jarvis but-”

“Jarvis is down, Colonel Rhodes.” Steve interjected.

“Yes, I know, Rogers.” Rhodes snapped. “I’m trying to get him back online! As soon as I’m in the Tower I’m going to his servers. I helped Tones write the code back in the day. If I can get him up and running-”

Commotion in the background cut him off for a moment. His voice too distorted to make out words.

“Colonel Rhodes?”

Steve turned in his seat, glancing at Bruce and Clint.

“We got new info. Two employees who had been in intensive care died in the last hour.”

That made 18 people. Steve closed his eyes. If they had been there they could have protected them. Tony would think it was his fault. If anything, it was their fault, because they had left Avengers Tower without making sure it was properly secured. But they couldn’t focus on that right now.

“Tony called us.”

The Colonel went deadly silent on the other end. There was the sound of movement.

“You’re on speaker. I’m with Pepper. Repeat that.”

“Tony called us. He was mostly okay. He told us… He said there were spies in Shield, SI, the military and most governments.”

“WHAT?” Both Pepper and Colonel Rhodes barked.

“Spying for whom?” Pepper demanded, sharply.

“We don’t know the call… it was cut off.” Steve didn’t elaborate. They didn’t ask. There was only one likely reason for it: he had been found out by his kidnappers.

“Anything else?” The Colonel asked coldly, his voice promising pain and death to everyone who had dared to lay a hand on his brother.

“Not so far. We’re working on it.” Clint cut it.

“Finding the spies or finding Tony.”

“Tony.” Four voices answered the threatening demand.

“Good.” There was a harsh exhale that Steve felt in his every cell. He wouldn’t be able to stomach much more of this up and down either.

“If you find anything-”

“We’ll call.” Steve didn’t say they should do the same. They would.

“Who knows about this?”

“Just we, you, Happy and the people helping us here know the barest bones.”

“Let’s keep it that way.” The authority in his voice almost demanded for a salute, but Steve could hold it back.

“Does Peter know?” Pepper asked, her voice strained.

“No. I didn’t get to tell him about the video because of-”

“The attack. Good.” She agreed, sighing. “We’ll be in New York in about an hour.”

“Be careful.”

“You too.”

The call disconnected.

Tony had made sure his message got out and he had used an emergency code to Rhodes. For Steve it was an obvious sign that he really was still fighting. It was possible of course, that the information had been planted, but he didn’t think so.

“Could be a third party.” Clint said, going back to the earlier conversation. “That would mean we have two parties we don’t know about.”

“Or subcontractors.” Natasha murmured, parking the car in front of Luca’s house.

“Or that.” Clint agreed. “The question is why did they stop working for the other party?”

All of them got out of the small car and Steve was glad to be able to move again. He flexed his hands, going to the trunk to get his shield out. They didn’t know much more just yet but not much longer and they would have a location or a hint or _anything_. And then they would-

“Nat!”

All of them turned towards the open front door. Luca was standing there, blocking most of the light so that her face was cast in shadows.

“Iolanda got something.”

Steve was right behind Natasha in entering the house and almost running to the dining room that had become a headquarter with different laptops and more setups.

The young woman sat hunched over her laptop, her dark hair almost covering her face. She looked up with a grim expression. “Bring_the_world_down_with_sparks hat eine Gesichtserkennung und Stimmerkennung laufen lassen. Als Tony angerufen hat wurde sie gewarnt und hat den Standort weitergeleitet. Ich habe Neuigkeiten von sozialen Netzwerken gefunden die über eine Militär- oder Polizeiaktion in der gleichen Region berichten, angefangen ungefähr fünfzehn Minuten nach dem Anruf. Sie suchen immer noch die Gegend ab.”

“The hacker used face and voice recognition to find Tony when he called you.” Luca translated. “She passed the location on and social media posts tell about a military or police operation in the same neighbourhood starting fifteen minutes after the call. It’s still going.”

They hadn’t found him yet. Because the captor escaped? Because they were hidden? Had they found… one of them?

Steve opened his mouth to ask different questions, starting by where that was and probably ending by how many people they had to start their own search, when a shrill alarm cut him off.

All of them jumped into a fighting stance, Steve hefting his shield, his eyes going to Iolanda who had opened more windows on her screen and cursed viciously in Italian.

“Sie hat mich zurück verfolgt!”

“Finde sie Ioli, ist mir egal was du tun musst, aber _finde sie_.”

“Klar, weil das so einfach ist!” Iolanda snapped at Luca, her hands already dancing furiously over the keyboard. “Ruf Arwed und Leon an.”

While Luca barked orders in her phone, Steve followed Natasha and the rest outside. The hacker bring_the_world_down_with_sparks had found their location when Iolanda had followed her trail. She had asked for help to get her new orders, to find her no matter how, done.

Stepping outside, Steve raised his shield higher, ready for an attack. There were at least forty people on the street. All of them armed, most wearing at least some body armour. The street, the houses and everything was flooded in light.

Steve glanced at Natasha who had a cruel smile on her lips. She cocked her head, murmuring, “One big happy family.” And Steve understood.

That was what had been suspicious to him when they had landed. The street was cut off, almost in the middle of nowhere (at least for German standards) but there were hidden signs of almost military tech and floodlights.

“Everyone in living in this street is family.” Clint smiled as viciously and readied his bow.

“And that are just the ones living here.” The Black Widow was hefting two guns.

Steve turned to Bruce who was almost doubled over, his hands on his knees.

“Bruce?” Gingerly, he placed a hand on the other man’s back, not letting go when he felt the shiver running through him.

“I can’t.” Bruce was breathing heavily and when he glanced at Steve most of his skin was glowing green. “If I turn… I’m not going to be able to stop.”

“It’s okay. Go back inside. We’ve got backup. Maybe you can help Iolanda?”

Bruce nodded, obviously holding on with all that he had to keep in control. He wouldn’t go to other people but keeping close to an exit to be able to get out if he had too, Steve knew.

As he turned, he saw Luca run out, a headset on, still giving orders, while also waving her hands. There was a glimmer around them.

“Zehn Sekunden!” Someone shouted, giving them a timeframe of ten seconds.

Steve wasn’t sure what would happen in ten seconds, but fell in line beside Natasha. Clint had vanished, probably climbing to a better vantage point.

“Don’t get distracted.” A young man stepped beside Steve, smiling. His hands were glowing in a similar manner as Luca’s. Actually, he looked a lot like Luca, Lia and Aaron.

Steve nodded to him, accepting without question that they had powers and he would probably get to see a spectacle in about three seconds.

Two.

One.

There was gun fire before they saw anyone and other people with glimmering air around their hands pressed them upwards or in front of them and the bullets ricocheted off similar shimmering air all around them.

Then Steve saw the dark clad figures advance. They were obviously trained and well coordinated.

Steve glanced at the man beside him who held his hand relaxed at his sides.

“Yeah, it does come handy from time to time.” He smiled. “We’ll let the first in our ranks in a bit. Get ready.”

Steve nodded. They would probably let them in, then encircle them and wait till they were out of ammunition. If there were enough people who could hold the barrier or if it didn’t take too much strength using the ability, it was an almost perfect plan.

The movement in the front line of their defenders caught Steve’s eyes. The barrier holders wavered, stumbled and moved to the side, giving way for eight people in black assault gear, looking exactly like the attackers of Stark Tower.

Something dark and malicious stirred in Steve’s chest. These people were with the ones who attacked his home. Who had attacked Tony’s company and killed Tony’s employees. They had hurt Tony’s kid. And they were working with the people who had taken Tony. Because of them he had been hurt. Because of them he was in the hands of the Winter Soldier.

Steve, even if he disliked violence, didn’t kill if he didn’t have to and fancied himself as close to being a pacifist as he could get as a superhero, would enjoy fighting them. He would enjoy _stopping_ them. Getting answers.

He stepped forward, directly behind the barrier that was hold up by Luca and Lia on either side, both looking grim and as if they were concentrating hard, but Steve heard the quiet murmur. Luca was still talking to other people, asking for additional back up and timing the next release with other people.

The eight offenders had stopped firing at the shimmering wall when the bullets had been sent back, hitting six of them. Three were obviously dead, one had a flesh wound, one a through and through and the last had been hit in the stomach.

The two attackers who were still standing, glared at everyone behind the wall, before they saw Steve. It was hard to tell what expressions they had behind the goggles and face masks, but judging by their posture, they glared, stopped and then both took a step towards Steve.

Steve smiled. Let them come at him. He was itching for a fight.

Both raised their guns. The one closer to the shimmering magic cocked his head to the side, before turning lazily and shot first the one standing and then the other ones of his team that were still alive.

He turned back to Steve, putting his gun to his temple and hissed two words before pressing the trigger.

“Hail Hydra.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: thanks for reading, your comments give me life, I love to hear your thoughts and please stay safe!


	14. Winter: To Destroy Captain America

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter is trying to take care of Tony. But he is difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy everyone!

“This is disgusting.” …Tony declared, pushing the bowl with the soup from him after barely eating one third.

Winter frowned. …Tony needed to eat to stay functional. Not as much as Winter but he still needed to eat. He hadn’t had much since Winter had taken him.

“Eat.” Winter nodded to the bowl.

“No, thank you.” …Tony sat back on his chair. He closed his eyes. There was a rigidness to his body that spoke of exhaustion and pain. The way he swayed when he walked spoke of the same and his headwound being serious.

That was Winter’s fault. He hadn’t taken care of …Tony. And Tony hadn’t either, something Winter suspected to be a trait of his. Even now the other man didn’t say that he needed to sleep. He didn’t even eat the food he needed.

“We need to get more information.” The smaller man forced himself to sit up straight. Nothing in his expression gave any hint about his worsening condition. He was paler than before but the actual indicators were the way he moved slowly and deliberately.

Winter knew that his ribs would be hurting. His bullet wound needed to be bandaged again. And he probably had a concussion. Winter knew these things more by accident. Aside from some first aid he had been ordered to do on occasion he was only used to hurt people.

But he didn’t want to hurt …Tony. He didn’t want to make it worse. He wanted to keep him safe.

Under the table, Winter balled his metal hand into a fist, while eating mechanically with the other. He needed to keep in top form if he wanted to protect them from the handlers.

He also needed to learn more. He had hurt …Tony even if he hadn’t wanted to. Feelings and decisions, Winter started to understand, could be dangerous. That didn’t mean he would give them up. Never. But he had to _learn_ if he didn’t want to hurt Tony again.

Because the other man, despite being one of the top three threads to Hydra and being feared by them, felt more than others. Granted, Winter didn’t know many people. Had never before talked with people about all this but looking at the pain, the dread and exhaustion in those brown eyes, Winter was sure he was right. 

He had watched people long enough to know that much. Even if he didn’t know what it meant. But he would learn. And it seemed …Tony still wanted to teach him. After telling Winter what he had done, he hadn’t even tried to hurt Winter. Even if he had deserved it. But …Tony had _asked_ Winter. Had talked to him. And he still called him Buttercup.

At that moment Winter had felt like heavy rocks had been falling from his shoulders and dissolving into nothing in his stomach.

“Do you know, I don’t know, someplace we could get information without starting a war or getting captured or killed?”

Winter raised an eyebrow at the other man.

“Like an office, someplace where they have computers, store files, that kinda crap.” There was an undertone in his voice. Rough, like he was in pain.

Winter leaned forward, carefully pushing the bowl back to him.

Tony groaned. “Not you, too!” He glared at the bowl in disgust. “I’m not going to eat that and you can’t make me!” At that he glared up at Winter as if to challenge him.

Winter knew he could do that. It would be easy. But it wasn’t what a friend would do. Was it? A friend took care of another friend, so making him eat was what a friend would do. But if he did force him, he would do something against his will and that wasn’t what a friend did.

“Don’t even think about it, Buttercup. The Avengers are worse enough, I don’t need you hunting me down to make me eat, too.” …Tony pushed himself up, wavering slightly on his feet, before finding his balance. He walked over to a cupboard and opened it, taking a package of Kaffeekränze out. Some sort of chocolate covered cookies.

“If I eat these, will you stop?”

Winter thought about it. Because Tony asked him a question and because he would wait for an answer.

If the Avengers, who Tony swore were his friends, hunted him to make him eat then it seemed that was something Winter had to do too. Because clearly Tony didn’t take care of himself. But if he ate those he did eat sustenance and would be functional for a while. That he had asked the question like that implied that it could be something that wouldn’t satisfy the Avengers. Did that mean he should protest?

The other man had sat down heavily on his chair again, still waiting for Winter’s answer.

“Yes.”

“Perfect.” Tony muttered with something in his voice that indicated he didn’t think it was perfect. But he started eating and right then Winter counted it as a win.

Winter resumed eating, too.

“Do you know a place where we can get information?” The other man grabbed for his mug, filled with strong smelling coffee and drank another big sip. It was his third mug already. At least he was drinking something.

Winter did. But he wasn’t sure if he should tell Tony. If he did he would want to go there and even if it was likely they would be able to get in, kill the agents, get the information he wanted and get out without being found out, it was a risk. And Winter didn’t want to take a risk involving Tony and Hydra.

“You know lying is bad, right?”

Winter looked up and met the brown eyes, watching him with an intense focus. Every once and again his eyes would slip out of focus betraying how bad his condition really was, but right now, there was no sign of weakness. Only a sharp mind that would _know_ if Winter lied.

He knew that his handlers didn’t like to be lied to even if all they ever did was lie. He had been used in enough torture sessions. He had been trained to recognize the behaviour people displayed while lying. If Tony said lying was bad, it was bad.

“Yes?”

“It is. Although, truth be told it’s not that easy, but for now let’s stick with: lying is bad.”

Winter nodded ones.

“So, do you know a place?”

“Yes.”

“Great. Where is it?”

Winter didn’t know how to answer that. He knew how to get there, but he didn’t know coordinates or an address. Some of his confusion must have shown on his face, because Tony helped out, like he did when Winter didn’t have the words.

“Do you know how to get there?”

Winter nodded again.

“Good. Let’s go.”

“No.”

Tony stopped in his movement and looked confused. This proved to Winter more than anything else that the other man needed rest.

“Sleep.” Winter said, before Tony could interrupt him. “Hurt.”

“You’re hurt?” Tony’s forehead crinkled in a frown and his shoulders tightened in worry.

Winter felt something he had felt often before: annoyance and frustration. Didn’t Tony know he was human?

“You.”

“I’m fine.” Tony pushed himself up, wavering dangerously even though he still supported himself on the table.

“Lying bad.”

The brown eyes, that had closed, most likely because of discomfort, opened and glared at Winter.

“See, this is what we call a ‘white lie’.”

“Lying bad.”

“I’m mostly okay, Buttercup, really. We need to get going and-”

“ _Hurt_.” Winter insisted.

“Yes, I know, but I can sleep in the car.”

That wasn’t the same. Tony needed to rest. Winter needed to change the bandages soon and both of them needed to clean up if they didn’t want to attract attention. That last one was an argument that might work with Tony. But it also might not.

Winter stood up, walking slowly around the table reaching his hands out to Tony to stop him from falling and injuring himself further.

Tony, differently to every other person Winter had ever encountered, didn’t flinch back. There was a small questioning frown, but he accepted Winter’s touch.

“Need sleep.”

“As I said-”

“Winter sleep. Not functioning correctly.”

At that, Tony’s eyes widened and he cursed. “Fuck, of course. I’m sorry Buttercup. When was the last time you slept?”

Warmth flooded Winter’s chest and he felt a tugging at his lips that he didn’t allow to show. This was proof Tony cared. Winter didn’t fool himself. Tony cared for people. Even Winter could see his light. But somehow, he still cared for Winter, too. And Winter was not above to use his good heart against him to make sure he got some rest.

He helped the stumbling man upstairs and once he found the bathroom, pushed him in.

Tony stiffened, his eyes darkening dangerously. “What are you doing?”

Winter took a step back. Had he done something wrong? Had he hurt him again?

“Winter?” Tony prompted, still an edge to his voice but less cutting than before.

“C… Clean…” Winter whispered, his voice strangled.

Tony’s shoulders didn’t relax but he nodded. “I’ve got it from here.”

Winter nodded, getting out of the bathroom as fast as he could.

Something had happened. Something… Had he done something? Tony had been okay. Tired, hurting, but he had seemed calm. Before they stepped into the bathroom.

He had to learn.

Getting the backpack, Winter waited in the hallway. After the shower was turned off, he heard heavy breathing. As if Tony had been running.

Minutes later the other man came out, a towel wrapped around his hips, his expression tight and controlled.

“I’m guessing we didn’t take clothes with us, did we?”

Winter shook his head, his eyes never leaving the smaller man. Without clothes he looked even more fragile. His ribs were almost showing and most of his skin was discoloured by bruises.

“In that case, let’s steal their clothes after eating their food and before sleeping in their beds. I can’t believe I’m in a fucking Goldilocks remake.” He murmured, opening two doors before finding a bedroom.

He sat down with a sigh. “As soon as you’re done here, you’re going to take a shower, too, right?”

Winter nodded, putting the backpack down beside Tony and started to clean the wound. Tony hissed when Winter used disinfectants.

“Should I take first shift?”

Winter looked up, meeting the exhausted gaze and shook his head.

“Wake up.”

Tony nodded. “Okay.” Without doing anything else, he gracelessly crawled under the blanket and went out like a light.

That was worrisome. Winter would need to keep a closer look on the man. He didn’t even take the pill Winter had meant to give him.

Leaving the bedroom was hard. Winter didn’t want to leave a sleeping Tony alone, but he needed to clean himself.

Showering as effectively and fast as possible, Winter rushed back to the bedroom, only putting on the trousers of his uniform and the weapons going with it.

Tony hadn’t moved. He lay on his side, breathing calmly.

Winter relaxed. Tony was safe.

What was he supposed to do now? He hadn’t lied to Tony. He needed sleep to function correctly and he would wake up if someone came into the house.

But he didn’t want to leave Tony on his own again. There was almost no way someone would be able to sneak up on him and hurt either of them.

But he didn’t want to leave Tony.

Could he… could he just stay? Tony seemed calm enough. Even letting himself be touched by Winter. Even after Winter had done _something_ before. It took Winter some more minutes to decide to lay down on the other end of the bed, as far away from Tony as possible. That way Tony hopefully wouldn’t be angry with him if he woke up before Winter, however unlikely that was, and Winter’s stomach didn’t fill with the heavy rocks again.

Winter slept well. He was used to sleeping in uncomfortable positions, being ready to fight in a heartbeat’s notice and knowing he was on the run.

He woke hours before Tony. Taking the time to look after the genius, fill their backpack with food the genius would hopefully eat and looked for clothes for both of them.

The smaller man would look even smaller in them as they were several sizes too wide but they were still too small for Winter. He found the washing machine in the basement, filling it with their clothes and putting them in the drier afterwards.

“Winter?”

Grabbing the dried clothes from the machine, Winter jumped up almost running to Tony. He didn’t sound like he was in distress but there had been a note in his voice that was new.

Tony’s shoulders relaxed and he lowered the gun Winter had put on the bedside table for him.

“There you are.”

Was that relief in his voice? Whatever it was, it was short lived, when he frowned at Winter in disapproval.

“You said you would wake me! Didn’t we _just_ talk about lying?”

Winter shook his head.

“Yes, we did, Buttercup, I remember it very clearly.”

Winter shook his head again, this time with a slight tilt to his head. That hadn’t been what he meant.

“You don’t remember?” Tony asked with a new wash of worry.

Winter shook his head again.

“So… you do remember that we talked about lying?”

Winter nodded.

“You do remember you told me you would wake me?”

Winter hesitated. That wasn’t what he had said. His dilemma seemed to register with the other man.

“You said… you meant you would wake up if something happened.” Tony’s words were a little clipped as if he was unhappy.

Winter nodded.

Tony sighed, his body stiffen further because of the movement. “But you did sleep?”

Winter nodded again.

“Okay, I guess.” Even after several hours of sleep the other man looked exhausted.

The brown eyes found what Winter was holding and his expression cleared some.

After getting dressed, Tony drinking four cups of coffee and Winter making them both eat more cookies before giving him pain meds and glaring at him until he took them, they disguised themselves as best they could with clothes they found in the closet (in Winter’s case a jacket where he had ripped the back enough to fit his shoulders in) and hats.

“If we are found like this I’m going to blame it all on you, Buttercup.” Tony glared down at the baggy beige clothes he was wearing over his own.

Winter didn’t understand but as Tony was sounding calm and only mildly annoyed he didn’t think it was important at the moment.

It was half past ten am when they slipped out of the house, walking along the road until they found another parking lot attached to an Aldi.

Tony hung back while Winter appropriated a grey car. The tank was three quarters filled. They wouldn’t need most of it to get to the base.

Setting their course to get to the A46, Winter started thinking. He knew Tony needed the information. And he would most likely be fast in getting them. The place they were driving to had been manned by less than ten people the last time he had been there, a couple months back.

The base was only a three hour drive away. What if they had secured it better? What if they were waiting for Winter or Tony to go there? Did they think Tony was dead? Did they think Winter would go after them?

Would Winter go after them? Did he want to go after them?

“Buttercup?”

Winter flinched.

“Sorry, I didn’t… Are you okay?” Tony’s voice was calm and soothing. “You looked like you were worrying.”

Winter glanced at the other man, his bright brown eyes on Winter.

Winter didn’t have words.

“You’re not very talkative today, are you?”

When Winter glanced at him again, there was a warm smile on his lips even if it didn’t reach his eyes. They were still warm.

“Don’t worry, I have been accused to be able to talk for days without ever stopping. Do you want me to show you?”

His expression was open and waiting when Winter glanced again towards him. As if he would talk or be silent if Winter wanted him to. He didn’t know how to react. Didn’t know what he wanted right now.

“Let’s try it this way. I’m going to talk and if you want me to stop, you tap the steering wheel three times, okay?”

Winter hesitated. Then he nodded.

“Great, Buttercup, then let’s think of a plan. I think wherever you’re bringing me is going to be filled with computers old enough to be stored in a museum and most likely one or two that are actually going to work, right?” He didn’t wait for Winter’s nod, still he flashed him an encouraging smile when Winter did.

“Cheap assholes, but what’s worse is the actual paper that I just _know_ they have. I’m not going to need to hack it but it’s going to be a fucking pain in the ass to take it with us, but I’m almost certain there will be either a transport for such occasions and most likely a plan to destroy all of it in the fastest way possible.”

Winter nodded again. Tony smiled again. And kept talking.

His guesswork was mostly spot on. A few times Winter tried to give him details, but the words wouldn’t come. Tony just patted his arm encouragingly without getting annoyed or angry and kept talking in circles until he asked questions that Winter could answer with shaking his head or nodding.

“There is something I wanted to ask you, Buttercup, but I’m not sure if it’s going to… upset you.” Tony’s voice, that Winter had listened to in the last two hours and had started to associated with being safe and calm, now sounded apprehensive. Not worried, not as if he was afraid of Winter. More like he didn’t want to hurt Winter.

Winter glanced at the other man. He was calm. Waiting.

Winter raised an eyebrow.

“If you don’t want to talk about it, any of it, just tap the steering wheel twice, okay? Twice means you don’t want the topic. Three times and I’m shutting up.”

Winter nodded, still overwhelmed with all the choices Tony was giving him. Even more daunting was that Winter trusted him to actually stop if Winter wanted him to. Tony wouldn’t force him. He didn’t want to hurt Winter. He had come to that conclusion last night and it was the reason why he had given the gun to the other man.

Tony hadn’t run when he woke up alone. Tony hadn’t tried to shoot Winter. Instead Tony had been worried that Winter hadn’t slept.

“Have you read the files about the Avengers?”

Winter nodded. As far as he knew Tony hadn’t but of course the other man knew that there were files about all of them.

“So, you know about Captain America?”

Winter nodded again. He and the Black Widow were the two other most dangerous threats to the handlers.

“Do you know his… history?”

Winter hesitated. The file mentioned how the Captain had fought against Hydra in the war, but nothing specific.

“He fought in World War II against Hydra.”

Winter nodded.

“He sacrificed himself to save the world from a bomb.”

Winter nodded again not understanding why Tony’s voice was as heavy as it was. The other man cleared his throat before continuing.

“Do you know who Steve Rogers is?”

Winter nodded. It was the other name of Captain America.

“Because it was in the file?”

Winter nodded again.

“Do you know anything else about Steve Rogers that you didn’t learn from the file or Hydra?”

Winter glanced at Tony. There was dread in his voice Winter didn’t understand. He shook his head.

Tony’s face didn’t show any reaction but his eyes filled with pain. For a moment it looked like he was breaking but as fast as it had come it was replaced with a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay, Buttercup. Can I ask more?”

Winter hesitated for a moment. It looked like Tony hurt himself with those questions more than it hurt Winter. Tony shouldn’t hurt himself. But Winter wanted to _understand_. He was asking all that because of something important.

He nodded.

Tony smiled at that, the pain still prominent in his eyes.

“Do you know the name James Buchanan Barnes?”

Winter nodded once. Sharp.

“From the file?”

Winter shook his head.

“From Hydra?”

Winter nodded again, his hands clutching the steering wheel tighter.

“Should I shut up?”

Winter hesitated, before shaking his head.

“Do… Did Hydra tell you about… about the name?”

Winter shook his head hard.

“You found out?”

Winter nodded, not looking at Tony.

“Do you remember being him?”

Winter flinched again. He didn’t. He didn’t remember anything before being hauled off the chair just over a year ago. He didn’t remember any more missions then the ones he did since then. He had only started to think a few weeks ago. Twenty-four days ago. He had thought that he disliked the handler punishing him.

He had learned about it seven months ago, when it didn’t mean anything. It had been loaded on the computer when the handler had called him. He wasn’t Hydra and didn’t seem to comprehend what _enhanced senses_ meant, because he had muttered under his breath. He had said the name. Had laughed, glanced at the Asset and then laughed again, saying _Na dann wissen wir ja was wir machen müssen, wenn wir Captain Amerika zerstören wollen._

_Well in that case we know what we can do if we want to destroy Captain America._

It still didn’t mean anything. Or it shouldn’t. But it clearly meant something to Tony. And it would mean something to Captain America. Was that the reason why it meant something to Tony? Would they, would Tony, want him to be Barnes?

Winter flinched again. Winter was Winter. He didn’t remember Barnes. Didn’t know anything about him aside from his name. And Tony just confirmed that he had been him once.

Whether or not he had been, he wasn’t anymore. The chair had taken care of it.

Winter was Winter. He just started to be Winter. He was _Buttercup_ to Tony. He didn’t want to have to be Barnes.

“It’s okay.”

A warm hand was on Winter’s arm and he almost recoiled from the gentle touch. But it was Tony. Reaching out, patting his flesh arm, calming him.

“I didn’t think so. It’s okay, Buttercup. You’re safe. You’re Winter and it’s good that you’re Winter. It’s okay.”

Tony’s hand stayed where it was, making soothing motions. Winter concentrated on the warmth seeping into his harm, on Tony’s promise that it was okay that he was Winter.

After calming, he glanced at Tony. He looked troubled but when he realized that Winter was looking at him he smiled. There was still pain in his expression but also reassurance.

“Feeling better?”

Winter nodded.

“Good.” Tony seemed to suppress a sigh before fidgeting with his hand on Winter’s arm. “Tap out if you want to… but there is one more thing.”

Winter felt dread settle in his stomach.

“We have to tell Steve.”

Winter didn’t react.

“When you are ready. I’m not going to force you, but… He knew James. They were… friends.” Tony’s voice was heavy as if it pained him to say it.

“If you want me to I can tell him, or we’ll do it together or you tell me to fuck off, which would be absolutely okay!”

Winter almost flinched but was able to hold it back this time. He didn’t want Tony to think that.

“But when you’re ready, Steve has to know.”

Winter didn’t react for a long time. Tony said it like there was no way around it. Like it would hurt both of them. But there was something more behind it and it took Winter some time to realise that it would probably hurt Steve even more and that was why Tony was hurting so much.

They were almost there when Winter glanced at Tony. His expression was controlled again, as if he feared he had broken Winter. But Winter wasn’t broken. He didn’t know if he wanted Steve Rogers to know about Barnes if even thinking about it hurt Tony like this already.

When Tony felt his gaze, he looked back at him, smiling again. He seemed to read something in Winter’s face because he relaxed slightly, squeezing his arm.

“It’s probably going to suck, you’re right, but you don’t keep something like that from your friends, Buttercup.” There was even more agony behind that statement. “When you’re ready, not a moment sooner. That is not lying.” There was steal behind those words.

For a moment Winter thought Tony was talking about something else, before he softened again, patting his arm before letting go.

“It’s going to be okay, Buttercup. I promise. I’m not sure yet how, but that has never stopped me before.”

Winter nodded. If Tony said it would be okay then he believed him. He also believed him when he said he would be there. Whether it was for Steve Rogers or Winter he didn’t know, but he hoped it was not only for Rogers.

They had long since left the autobahn and where currently on something that was technically a road. Winter parked the car just outside the range of the cameras and looked at Tony.

“Forget it, I’m not going to wait here for you. I’m fine.”

Winter raised an eyebrow.

“Mostly fine, fuck you’re as bad as- Forget it, I’m coming with.” Tony unbuckled and the only reason he didn’t exit the car in the next heartbeat was Winter hand grabbing him.

“What?”

Winter nodded forward and then looked back at Tony.

“Yes, of course I know there are going to be cameras. Do you think I’m stupid? No, don’t answer that.” Tony huffed. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

It took them almost twenty minutes to sort it out. Tony didn’t get angry at Winter’s speechlessness once. Sometimes there was a crease on his forehead or he huffed. But he didn’t press Winter to speak, asking question after question until they had a plan.

Infiltrating the base, killing six agents and subduing the other three, including the one manning the computer took them considerably less time. Eight minutes to be exact. Winter learned that Tony liked to be exact when it came to numbers.

After working flawlessly together with the injured man in ways he had never worked with the agents he had been forced to train with and against, and after securing the few rooms hidden under the old house in an unmarked forest on private property, he now stood uselessly behind the other man.

Tony was elbows deep in a computer muttering curses all the while.

Every ten minutes Winter would make a perimeter check. Every time he came back Tony did something else. And then he had started to go through the data. His commentary never stopped.

“Fucking idiots you think that is enough to secure these files?”

“Hah, I knew that couldn’t be a coincident! When I find him, I’m going to bury him, you wait, Buttercup, I’m going to fucking bury him and after that I’m going to let Pepper have a go!”

“I’ll sue them for everything they’ve got! They stole my Quinjet designs! And they fucked them up! They didn’t only steal them, they also fucked them up!”

“Anderson? Fucking Anderson?”

“That’s most of the Strike Teams. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“I don’t think this is all the info but if all of this is true… Shit, Buttercup, why didn’t I see this?”

“Fucking stupid.”

“Bring_the_world_down_with_sparks, huh? You just wait, honey, I’m going to firework your ass.” That last sentence was said with enough menace to make Winter uneasy.

The next time he came back from his round Tony actually looked up at him.

“Do you know there is a hangar nearby with what could have been a perfectly good Quinjet if these assholes weren’t stupid enough to think they could improve my designs? My designs! I’m literally an engineering genius and they think-” He cut himself off. “Never mind. Do you know where the hangar is?”

Winter nodded.

“Good. Pack up as many files as you can. I’m already sending Rhodey all the data I found and that is probably way more than these assholes even knew they had access to.” He huffed.

Winter stepped forward, worry thrumming through him but before he could say anything Tony looked at him and smiled.

“Don’t worry, Buttercup. I encrypted it. No one else but my _honeybear_ is going to get near the info.” He chuckled darkly and Winter was once again reminded that Tony, the man who patted his arm and promised everything was going to be okay, was dangerous enough that the handlers’ handlers were afraid of him.

And judging by what he had been able to do in the last ninety minutes, they had underestimated him.

Tony seemed to misunderstand his silence as doubt because his smile became more natural and calming. “It’s encrypted seven different ways. Every encryption is keyed to a different specific phrase and all indications which keys are going to work are lies. We came up with that one night while we were at MIT.” His eyes lit up and he laughed. “It was actually the night I started to call him honeybear.” He turned back to the keyboard, typing away, but continued the story with a warmth and _love_ in his voice, Winter didn’t know if it was okay for him to keep listening.

“Don’t ask me how or why but we talked about bedtime stories. His mother read him Winnie the Pooh when he was little and I told him Jarvis… well no one told me any stories after I turned three.” He stopped for a heartbeat. “Rhodey was appalled. Next thing I knew, he dragged me to a book store, got a copy of Winne the Pooh, dragged me back to our flat and started reading it to me. I was fourteen at the time and an ungrateful fuck. But it was important to Rhodey so I let him read it to me while I came up with a new encryption.” Tony laughed.

“Next morning I’m looking at the code and realize I fucking used _Winnie the Pooh_ as a key and wrote a new one because I was way too cool to let anyone know that my flatmate was reading me bedtime stories for babies – or that I liked it! Rhodey kept reading them to me, so I started to call him honeybear. We expanded on the code until it was good enough to handle our kind of security level.”

He glanced over his shoulder with a smile so brilliant and so much happiness radiating off of him, Winter almost missed the signs off pain and exhaustion on the other man.

As soon as Tony had encrypted the data and sent it, he put a virus in the system, explaining what it would do, but Winter didn’t care. Tony knew what he was doing. He trusted him.

There were too many paper files so there was a new plan. They would wait till they were out of reach and then sent a message to Rhodey with the coordinates of this hideout.

Driving to the hangar took them only thirty more minutes. In that time Tony seemed to feel worse by the minute and Winter got more restless. Every minute longer here, driving between Hydra hideouts was a risk he was unwilling to take. But as he didn’t have a better plan, he had agreed.

This time Tony stayed back in the car when Winter went over. He changed into his uniform. After fastening the mask, it took some time for Winter to calm down. This felt like being the Asset. But he wasn’t. Not anymore. He was Winter.

The hangar was secured by video cameras and alarm systems. Winter disabled both. It was also protected by four guards who obviously didn’t take their job seriously. Winter took them out.

When he got back to the car Tony was even worse. He was pale and his hand that trained the gun on Winter when he suddenly appeared at the passenger door, shook slightly.

Tony opened his mouth to lie again but didn’t say a word when Winter glared at him.

Winter drove them right beside the Quinjet, helping the other man inside, glaring all the while.

“Fucking hell. Just give me another pill and stop glaring. I’m mostly fine, Buttercup.” Tony mumbled, while sending the coded message to James Rhodes with a cell phone Winter had stolen from one of the guards.

Winter glared even harder. But he went to his backpack, taking one pill out and a water bottle.

Tony was too out of it to even look properly at the drug he was handed. He swallowed the pill, drinking some water and let Winter buckle him up.

He really was too trusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all you amazing people for sticking with me!


	15. Steve: The Same Problem just in Another Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and the rest of the Avengers learn some things and get a lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess what, people, I've got a freaking cold - but it's not Covid. Silver Linings everywhere!
> 
> Let's just pray the world will be a little better tomorrow. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_Hail Hydra_.

Someone grabbed Steve’s arm. Dragging him back.

_Hail Hydra._

There were more hands on him.

_Hail Hydra._

Steve was pushed and dragged and he barely realised the strong feminine hands. He didn’t see the house, the stairs or the room he was pushed into.

 _Hail Hydra_.

He didn’t feel the couch he was placed on. Barely recognized when his head was pushed between his knees.

_Hail Hydra._

He didn’t see anything. He didn’t feel anything. Nothing aside from the ice choking him. Nothing aside from his heart stuttering in his chest. Nothing from the speechless _terror_.

Hydra.

Steve tried to suck air into his lungs. There wasn’t any. There was only ice and emptiness and agony clawing at his lungs.

 _Hydra_.

Someone moved his arm and Steve didn’t react at all. Let them do what they wanted. What did it matter anyway? Hydra was still around. They were still here. They were-

Warmth flooded from his arm through his body and somewhere in his brain where the numbness hadn’t overtaken yet, he realized he had been drugged.

Steve welcomed the blackness taking his mind.

The opening of a door woke Steve. Before he realized what had happened he was sitting up, already moving in a protective stance when he realized it was Bruce.

The other man offered a strained smile, pain and understanding in the brown eyes.

Steve remembered.

Bowing his head, he exhaled.

Bruce’s steps didn’t falter. He sat down on a chair beside Steve’s bed and waited. It was his preferred technique. Waiting until the other person was ready to talk. He never pushed. He never demanded. He was only ever more persisting with Tony but you had to be if you wanted to get through to the engineer.

A shudder run through Steve’s body and he felt as weak as he had back in the 1930s. Before he got the serum. Back when every minor cold had the potential to kill him and he was used to not being able to breathe.

“Steve.” Bruce’s voice was warm and understanding. There was also pain, suppressed anger and fear. But it was all Bruce.

“How are you feeling?”

Steve didn’t answer. Physically he was fine. Whatever Bruce had given him to knock him out, it was a hazy memory but there was no other explanation why he would have slept through the night, which he had judging by the light spilling through the curtains, didn’t affect him anymore.

Mentally? He was too numb to know what to say. He knew he wasn’t okay. He knew there was going to be fear and rage and… more. But right now? There was only a hopeless daze.

Still, he had a job to do. He had to… He had to.

“Everyone okay?”

“No one was injured.”

Steve nodded. That was good.

“Steve?”

He looked up at the tone of his voice and met Bruce’s eyes. They were brown without a sliver of green. But they were filled with dread and fear. And regret. It was obvious whatever he was going to say he hated it. But he still would do it. As always.

“They have Tony.”

Instantly the daze was burned away by a bone deep terror. They had Tony. _Hydra_ had Tony. Hydra had the Winter Soldier and sent him after Tony. And he had caught Tony while giving away information.

Steve remembered what they had done back in the war. He still remembered the screams. Sometimes he woke from nightmares of what he had seen. Of the way Bucky had whimpered whenever he had a nightmare after his capture. He remembered the mangled bodies and-

Hydra had Tony and Steve was sitting in his bed feeling sorry for himself.

No.

Getting out of bed, Steve pushed everything away. Every doubt. Every fear. Every bit of self-hate and the screamed accusations that he had failed _everyone_. The knowledge that he had sacrificed himself for nothing. That he had accomplished nothing. That everything he had told himself since waking up in the future where empty lies.

The only thing that mattered right now was getting Tony back. If someone would make him justify his actions later on, he would explain that they couldn’t risk the genius Tony Stark to stay under the control of Hydra.

He didn’t give a shit about that though. The only thing that mattered to Steve right then was getting Tony, _his Tony_ , out of their hands and to safety. It didn’t matter that he had gotten the serum to protect human kind and that, if what Tony had implied was true, Hydra was about to _win_ or at least be able to destabilize the world.

It just didn’t matter.

He stopped when Bruce stepped into his way, holding fresh clothes, and a towel out to him.

“Take a shower, Steve. We’re downstairs.”

Following orders was easier just this once.

The water was almost scalding. Steve let it chase away the residual cold and decided on three things.

Firstly, he was done breaking down. After saving Tony and saving the world he could splinter for all he cared. He would let Shield force him into a lunatic asylum strapped into a straightjacket if he had to. It didn’t matter as long as he was able to fucking hold it together long enough to be useful.

Secondly, the Avengers had to come up with a way to get information, pass them on to people who weren’t Hydra and start to prepare for the worst while disempowering the then-hopefully-known Hydra agents.

Thirdly, Tony’s rescue came first. No matter what happened, no matter what he was ordered to, no matter what _Tony_ would think about it, rescuing him came first.

Leaving the shower, Steve was calm. Now, he had a plan. He knew what to do, not in detail, but what was important, how he would structure it and nothing else mattered.

He went down to the dining room that was full of people buzzling around, talking to each other or on the phone. He heard at least German, English, Italian and Dutch, before Clint grabbed his arm and steered him into the living room.

Natasha was on the phone, looking as if she was seconds from murdering whoever was on the other end. Bruce was sitting in front of a laptop. He glanced up when he saw Steve and gave him a small smile.

Clint, ever considered, pushed Steve down on the couch and dumped prepared food almost in his lap, glaring at him until Steve started chewing. As soon as he did, he filled him in what had happened after Steve lost it.

Apparently, Natasha and the guy he had talked to, Immanuel who actually was a brother of Luca’s, had grabbed him and dragged him into the house where he had a panic attack (Clint’s actual words were _freak out_ ) and they called Bruce, who had packed tranquilizers strong enough to knock out Captain America.

While Steve had been put in bed and been watched over by their not-that-kind-of-doctor, Clint and Natasha helped with clean up, overheard two interrogations and started helping with gathering information, already getting in contact with people around the globe.

Luca and her people were working tirelessly and had even forced Clint and Nat to take some downtime. Judging by the bags under their eyes it had been barely enough but Steve would wait just a little longer before getting into a fight with the Black Widow running on fumes.

The good news was that, as far as Luca was concerned, there weren’t any Hydra spies with them. Steve didn’t know if he believed it, but as Nat seemed to be optimistic enough in that estimate, he would just accept it for now.

The not that bad news were that they had already found a few trails and candidates that could be Hydra spies in Germany and, with the help of Natasha, Clint and Bruce, had a few names singled out in Shield.

The bad news was that there was no way to confirm any of it just yet. The interrogations were still going, but as they had to involve the German government it was slower as it could have been. There had been four suicide attempts (one of them successful) by the captured Hydra agents and none of them were talking.

The worse news: apparently there was a disagreement between Luca’s family and the police forces and they were still fighting who was allowed to be in the interrogation rooms, who was allowed to know about any of it and whose jurisdiction it fell under.

When Steve had let concern slip onto his expression, Clint had smirked evilly and explained that at least one of the police officers was an uncle of Luca’s.

That didn’t calm Steve as much as Clint probably hoped. If anything, it proved how easy it was to infiltrate organizations and that was the same problem just in another colour.

When Steve finished with his brunch, Nat had been speaking with three more people. All of them telling her the same thing: No news of any kind. No unusual movements. Nothing that indicated something big happening.

Steve felt useless. He didn’t have contacts outside of Shield or the Avengers he could call. He wasn’t helpful behind a computer, couldn’t go into a German police station and offer to _interrogate_ some Hydra asshole and without any concrete information whatsoever, he couldn’t plan and couldn’t attack.

Instead he focused on his teammates. He brought Bruce tea and was a steading presence beside him. He got Natasha chocolate bars, pencil and paper when she wanted to write something down and let her rant at him. He let Clint sass him, stopped him from getting into a fight with the analysts and whoever else was sitting in the kitchen and brought him food.

He didn’t think about Hydra or Tony.

Steve was fraying at the edges three hours later. He still forced himself to be calm but his blood was at least half part pure adrenaline by this point and Steve _needed_ something to do. He craved a fight, just anything to finally do something useful.

When he paced another path into the living room carpet, Natasha snapped.

“Upstairs!” She hissed at all of them. Clint, who had been annoying Iolanda, and Bruce who had once again talked with Jane Foster just to be told that, no, Thor hadn’t come back and she hadn’t just conveniently forgotten to tell him about the twelve calls from Bruce, followed the command without so much as a back glance.

Steve at least frowned at her before following his teammates.

Sitting down in the upstairs living room that had the painting of the dying planets in it, they all looked at Natasha who took her phone out, placed it on the table between them and let it ring through.

“Yes?” Colonel Rhodes voice was cold and hard over the phone. Steve could barely remember the warmth it could hold when he talked to Tony.

“It’s Romanoff, Barton, Banner and Rogers. I have a question, Colonel.”

“What?” The voice moved a little closer and Steve could hear a little metallic sound.

“Considering the situation, I need permission to inform the others about Afghanistan and Stane.”

Suddenly all the air seemed to be sucked out of the room. If Steve had been asked five minutes ago, he would have said this was as worse as it could possibly be. Hydra was back, they had spies everywhere and their personal assassin, feared by the Black Widow herself held their very own genius. There was no way to make this situation any worse.

He would have been wrong.

Bruce and Clint seemed to agree with him, because both looked gutted. Steve was sure he didn’t look any better.

“Denied.” Rhodes voice was barely recognizable.

“Rhodes-”

“No, Romanoff, absolutely not. I have no idea what you know and I don’t want to know _how_ you know it, but I’m absolutely positive that its only half of the story and that is the best-case scenario.”

“We need to… prepare.” The last word was laced with emotions. Just enough for Rhodes to hear it and realize how affected Natasha really was. It was a calculated move. It was manipulative. And it was the god honest truth.

For a long moment there was no reaction. No one breathed.

“This is Tony’s story. I’m only going to tell you enough to make you understand what… how he might react and what you can do to help him. If Tony wants you to know more, he will tell you. You are not going to ask him about it. You are not going to act differently. And if any of you ever breathe a word about this, I swear to god, I will hunt you down.”

There was absolutely no doubt in Steve’s mind that Rhodes would do exactly what he said if it ever came to that. The factual tone he had delivered the threat made it all the more menacing. This wasn’t a supervillain spouting. This was a trained Lieutenant Colonel protecting his baby brother.

“Understood.” Nat said, her tone as factual as Rhodes.

“Tony was held by the Ten Rings for three months. During this time, they used different torture techniques on him. Mostly beating him, starving him and waterboarding him.”

Steve was rooted to his place. It was the only reason he didn’t threw up right then and there. The detachment in Rhodes voice was obviously long practiced. It didn’t hide the devastation and rage behind it.

“This still affects him. When you find him, he will most likely not be able to accept touches that he didn’t initiate. He will most likely flinch from all forms of contact. Depending of what they did there is a chance he might not be able to see, hear or even drink water. Coffee is going to work. Decaf only. He will try to get alcohol. Do not let him get alcohol. He will try to avoid sleeping. Do not let him avoid sleeping. He will try to push you away. Do not leave him alone under any circumstances. Are we clear?”

The answering silence was interrupted by Steve’s choked out “Understood.”

“Most likely he will have violent night terrors. Before you get him here you call me every time. _Every time_. You put me on speaker and you leave the room the moment he is no longer a danger to himself.” Rhodes inhaled, shakily.

“There is a possibility that he won’t let anyone see his chest. He will most likely not be able to let anyone touch the Arc Rector. Do not touch his chest if it is not immediately necessary to save his life. Do not incapacitate him under any circumstances. If you have to, put him into a well-lit room where he can’t hurt himself and others or can escape but do not hold him down. And under _no circumstances_ are you allowed to drug him. Not if he has a panic attack and passes out, not if he hurts himself and not if someone wants to perform medical treatment. Actually, no medical treatment he doesn’t want to happen if it is not immediately necessary for his survival.”

Steve stared at the phone. He had balled his hands in tight enough fists that there was a risk of himself breaking his own fingers.

“He might… he might attack you. Protect yourself but do not hurt him. He might accuse you of betrayal. Do not get angry or defensive. Afghanistan was organized and payed for by Obadiah Stane. His godfather, who tried to kill him with a duplicate of his first Iron Man suit later on.”

Steve closed his eyes.

“Stay in his field of vision. Talk to him in a calm and clear manner. Don’t patronize him. Don’t scare him. Call me every time. I don’t give a fuck how late it is or how often you call me, you call me every time. And you get him here as soon as possible.” There was a shuttering exhale over the line and Steve couldn’t even imagine what it had cost Rhodes to say all this.

“Any questions of what to do?”

No one answered.

“Good. Call me when you find something.” Rhodes disconnected the call.

No wonder Tony was as good with all their behaviour after nightmares or when they were hurt or afraid. No wonder he never talked about any of _that_.

He was even stronger than Steve had given him credit for. He smiled and cared for all of them and still shone so bright. How could he still be full of wonder and excitement and _love_ for human kind?

“Did you know?”

It took Steve a moment to recognize Clint’s voice. When he looked up, following the archer’s gaze to Natasha, he saw her turn away.

“Some.”

“When we find him-” The growl in Bruce’s voice was cut off by an actual growl, low and menacing and Steve didn’t need to glance over to know his eyes were acid green. “We’re not letting anyone see him. Avengers only.”

“Obviously.” Clint spat, his face blank. There was a restlessness to him that he never showed during the job. If he had too, Hawkeye could sit in a tree for hours and not move an inch. Now, he couldn’t even stay on his chair, jumping up to pace through the room.

Bruce wasn’t moving a muscle as if the smallest movement would let him lose control. It probably would.

Natasha was sitting, her back straight, her hands gracefully clasped in front of her, her head slightly bowed.

Steve was doing anything at all to not think. To not even think about how his hands _hurt_ because he kept pressing down on them. How he focused hard enough on his breathing to have forgotten that breathing was a reflex.

Following his first decision, he didn’t break down. Following the third decision he needed to get his team back on track.

“Tony is strong.” His voice wasn’t. Despite it, all of them turned towards him.

“He is fighting right now and he will keep fighting. That’s just who he is. And if he… if he forgot, we’ll help him remember. We’ll keep fighting for him. With him.”

They all nodded.

Bruce went off to meditate. Natasha went back downstairs to talk to her contacts. Clint went outside to shoot something. Steve sat down and started to plan what to do if… if Tony needed their help like that.

Before starting a google search that might be able to be traced back to him, he asked Luca for books about… recovery. She didn’t even blink and directed him to a bookshelf filled with books about PTSD, recovery and how to be there for a survivor of torture. Steve pointedly didn’t think about _why_ she had all those books.

Some of the books were even in English. He started with those.

He was just beginning the third chapter when his phone rang.

“Colonel?”

“I got an email from Tony.”

“One moment, please.” Steve was already running down the hall, calling for the other Avengers.

“Get that contact of yours, too.”

“Luca!”

Luca closed the door behind all of them barely a minute later.

“You got an email from Tony?” Steve prompted holding out his phone.

“A link to encrypted data at least a few terabytes of it.”

“You’re sure it’s from Tony?” The Black Widow asked.

“Positive.” Rhodes confirmed, just the barest hint of emotion in his voice. “We came up with this encryption back in MIT. Neither of us ever told anyone about it.”

That didn’t mean that the Winter Soldier wouldn’t have been able to get that information.

“He wouldn’t have used that encryption if it wasn’t him.”

“Could he have done it without being found out?” Luca asked, her voice calm.

“…it seems to be complete. The code is perfect. I don’t think he was interrupted.”

“Can you decrypt it?”

“Of course, I can, but without Jarvis up and running I don’t have a secure enough server to put it on.”

“Can I help you with that, Rhodey?”

“I don’t think so, Bruce. It’s a long time since I’ve seen his code and Tony has improved it considerably. And since I can’t risk Jarvis being compromised… I don’t think I can do it without Tony.”

That wasn’t at all surprising to Steve. Colonel Rhodes was a very clever man. He was brilliant in his own right if you were to believe his file and people who had worked with him. But just like Bruce, he wasn’t _Tony_.

“Could you decrypt anything?”

“Yes.” There was a pause, probably more for Rhodes to focus than for dramatic effect. “I had to check if the key fit and… It was a list of names of Hydra spies.” He inhaled before reading out the names.

If the line wasn’t secure without Jarvis interference whoever listened to them already knew way too much, so no one tried to stop Colonel Rhodes.

The list went on and on. Naming almost all of the Strike Teams of Shield. Naming high officials in Shield, the military and politicians.

“I’ve already told Pepper about the ones in SI.”

“What will she do?”

“Nothing for the moment. Now that I know I can’t help Jarvis I’ll get in contact with people I _know_ aren’t Hydra.”

“We are already working on a strategy, Colonel.” Luca interjected.

Forty minutes later they had the barest bones of a strategy how to get this under control as soon as possible. It all boiled down to: find trustworthy people, spread the word and arrange a time to get them all at once.

And Steve would have nothing to do with any of it. Not before Tony was _safe_.

Right at the end of the discussion there had been a pause when Luca asked what the Avengers would do.

None of them had answered.

“Call me when you have more information, James. I’m going to ask Ioli to add you to the secure lines.” Luca had gone from ‘Colonel’ to ‘James’ in one sentence flat and Rhodes hadn’t protested. As soon as she had left the room, Steve looked at his teammates.

“Colonel, we will call you back.”

Without saying a word, Rhodes hung up.

Steve wasn’t sure if he was angry because he thought Steve would abandon Tony and try to hunt down Hydra or because he wouldn’t abandon Tony and would leave the world to fend for itself.

Because that was what he was going to do. Yes, the Avengers needed to get involved. Yes, the world needed to be saved. And it would. Just not by Steve.

When he looked back at his teammates he saw the same determination in all of their eyes. All of them stared at him with the same reproach he had heard in the Colonel’s voice.

Of course, the Avengers had to be part of the fight. Of course, Captain America needed to be seen taking Hydra down. Of course, the Black Widow would be most suitable to infiltrate and get information. Of course, Hawkeye should be there, overseeing the operation and making sure no one got away. Of course, Dr. Banner should help go through the files and find connection and the Hulk should be there, lending his strength to the fight.

But this family couldn’t. Natasha had just found it and couldn’t abandon one of them. Clint wouldn’t leave before he knew all of them were safe. Bruce could never go when he knew someone was held against his will. And Steve _could not_ forsake one of his own.

“Someone has to go.”

All their eyes wandered to Natasha. She held herself stiff, prepared to fight, to argue and threaten to stay here.

No one contradicted her. No one volunteered.

“Tony would want-”

“Fuck that! If Tony did what _we_ wanted he wouldn’t be fucking kidnapped _again_.” Clint growled, lowly. His green eyes glittered dangerously. Under any other circumstances Steve would be impressed. Few people were stupid enough to go against the Black Widow when she had that none-expression.

Natasha pinched her lips together.

“He might need medical aid when we find him.” Bruce’s expression was that forced calm that told everyone to move slowly and not annoy the other side of the Hulk. Steve couldn’t have cared less if he didn’t have a point. Bruce knew more about the Arc Reactor than probably anyone besides Tony and Tony trusted him. If he needed to be treated Bruce had the best chances of getting through to him.

Neither of their spies argued the point. No one believed Tony wouldn’t need it.

“I’m sorry, Steve, but it’s best if-”

“I’m not leaving.” His voice was calm and determined. It was the same conviction he had when he knew he needed to fight back in the 40s. The same determination that had made him who he was.

Clint looked at him, mutiny written all over his face. Before he could colourfully explain why he wouldn’t leave, Steve’s phone rang.

Glancing down, he saw Colonel Rhodes’ number.

“You’re on-”

“ _He sent me a location._ ”

Five minutes later the Avengers and fourteen of Luca’s people were already on their way. They took the Quinjet and a heli they had hidden somewhere.

As far as intel went, it was just some private property. But Tony wouldn’t have sent it to Rhodes if it wasn’t important.

Steve pressed down on the screaming hope that Tony could be there and ignored the accusing murmurs that Tony hadn’t been more than a forty minutes flight away from them – less if they didn’t have to slow down for the helicopter.

Twenty minutes in, they got new information. Apparently, satellites had picked up some private air field near the location and they couldn’t find any information about who owned the property aside from a front company.

Steve had a bad feeling about it. He tried to not think about it, but there was the question why Tony wouldn’t send his location with the data. Why did he wait? Did he fear someone would be able to intercept the information? But if so, why sent the data before the location? If he knew where he was why send the data at all? He _knew_ they would get him.

So why? The glances Natasha sent his way seemed to ask the same questions.

Was it possible this was a trap? Had the Winter Soldier gotten the information from Tony? Had they made him sent it? Had they someone that could find out what Tony had done and replicate it?

Luca’s people hadn’t said it, but it was obvious that they were suspecting a trap. More teams were following and they were already informing specific people in the police to let them know to turn a blind eye.

What if… what if they… Steve closed his eyes and exhaled. Focus. He needed to focus. To concentrate. In an hour they would know. They could have Tony back.

“There’s no movement on the property.” A static voice told them over the comms.

That didn’t need to mean anything. Iolanda had told them there was barely any coverage in that area and the satellite they used right now didn’t have the correct angle and the forest in and around the property could hide any number of things.

“Copy that.” Aaron looked up at Steve and smiled. “Let’s kick some ass.”

Steve nodded, standing while Clint started the landing. They had fought over the approach until Natasha, who always preferred stealth, declared that there was no way to know if they even could sneak up. It was possible that the whole forest was bugged and had video surveillance.

While the six ‘family members’, as some of them had introduced themselves, readied their weapons and Natasha stashed away a few more knifes, Steve glanced at Bruce.

The quiet man sat deadly still, his eyes closed and hands pressed over the headphones that was playing calming instrumental music.

Steve didn’t reach out. Instead he hefted his Shield higher.

They exited the Quinjet the second it touched down. Steve knew that Hawkeye would be right behind them, but he didn’t wait. He didn’t glance at the Black Widow, trusting blindly that she would be beside him.

Running towards the unassuming building that looked like an unfinished cross between a small modernised farmhouse and an unsuccessful try at converting a stable to an office complex, Steve saw that the door was standing slightly ajar.

That wasn’t a good sign.

“Door!” He heard someone hiss but he was already pushing it open with enough force to break the wall behind it.

The interior was grey and functional, aside from the bodies littering the ground. They advanced and five minutes later they knew for sure something happened here. There were six bodies looking like they had been executed, three were unconscious and professionally tied up and something or _someone_ had wreaked havoc on everything that used electricity to function, frying all of the systems beyond repair.

This wasn’t a trap.

It seemed like there had been an invasion before them.

Tony had been here but wasn’t any longer.

They couldn’t have missed him by more than two hours.

 _Two hours_.

“Steve!”

He turned to meet Aaron, still grabbing his shield like it was his last lifeline.

“The other team just checked the airfield. There were four bodies and an empty hangar.”

Steve closed his eyes.

“Is there anything?” His voice was firm. Hard.

“Not yet, but they are looking.”

Nodding, he turned away. They would find him. They _would_ find him.

Natasha stopped in his way, meeting his eyes. She hid it well, but there was the same fear in them that was constricting his chest. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to.

There was no hint that they had hurt or killed Tony, but there was almost zero chance that they didn’t know what he had done even if he delayed the destruction of the systems.

The even more pressing question right now was: who had him now? Was he still in the hands of the Winter Soldier? Was he in the hands of Hydra? Were there different factions of Hydra who were fighting amongst each other or was there a new organization? And if so, what did they want with Tony? If they wanted to help him, if they were _good_ , they would have called the Avengers or let Tony call them.

Instead they had gotten this location. Why?

It was possible that Tony had sent it just before he had been taken, trying to give them even more data. Luca’s people were already organizing to get all of the paper files to a safe location.

Was that it? Tony had known he would be taken somewhere else and wanted them to find the files to fight Hydra? Couldn’t he have sent the location earlier? Couldn’t he have _tried_ to get back to them? Was he not trying to get rescued or save himself so that he could learn more about Hydra to take them down?

Could he be that stupidly heroic?

Of, course. He was the most stubborn, brilliant, self-sacrificing _idiot_ Steve knew. And he had served with the Commandos. Heck, Tony was even worse than _Steve_.

Some of the boxes filled with files were put in the Quinjet before they flew it back to Luca. They still hadn’t decided what to do. Steve still didn’t know how to get Natasha and Clint back to New York to help the credible agents of Shield without them trying to kill him for even suggesting it.

Ignoring another call from Fury, Steve helped Bruce bring the last boxes inside of the house diagonally opposite from Luca’s that seemed to be owned by her parents.

A woman with greying brown hair and gentle brown eyes invited (ordered) them to eat and Steve followed mostly because she had an edge to herself that screamed of brutal efficiency.

He didn’t taste a thing.

Almost an hour later they were partaking in another planning session while most people who weren’t doing other vital jobs were going through the files when Rhodey, who was on speaker on Luca’s phone, got another call.

A minute later the news already broadcasted the story and interrupted the first with a new one.

There had been two successful hits on American politicians. Their names had been on the list Tony had sent them.

Someone was hunting Hydra agents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Thank you all for your incredible comments!
> 
> Stay safe, as sane as possible (desirable) and healthy :)
> 
> Ah and if you need something amusing: [This is me writing (and probably you looking at my updates...)](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/prankprincess123/633701542985416705)


	16. Winter: Taught Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D Don't hate me, please.

They had taught their Asset well.

Getting the intel was easy.

Getting into position was easy.

As luck had it, not one but two targets stepped into his line of sight.

He hit the targets both times dead centre.

He changed his position. Waited for his next targets.

Agents arrived, trying to bring order in the chaos.

He observed. Waited until all of them were in the open. Then he shot all those he had been shown a file that confirmed them as Hydra spies.

He got eleven before the rest had found cover.

He got all the evidence, like they had taught him.

And left the scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, you may yell at me :D
> 
> Next chapter is going to be longer, promise!


	17. Tony: Jailor / Bodyguard / Assassin / Puppy / Murderer of his parents / Newest stray he had adopted because he fucking couldn’t help himself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Winter have a fight. And some plot happens as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> I hope this weekend will bring all of us a little peace of mind!
> 
> I just saw as of now there were 404 comments. People you are the absolute best!
> 
> Enjoy!

“I’m going to kill him.”

Tony would. As soon as Winter came back and disabled the monstrosities he had put on the door that was at least three different bombs that Tony normally would be able to disable without a problem, (but his head hurt, worse than the days before, he felt a little jittery and fucking weak and most of the bomb was on the outside of the door).

Then he would scream at him a little more because a) he had drugged Tony! b) he had taken Tony back to the States without his consent and c) hadn’t they just had that very discussion?

That he was back in the States was obvious because of the light switch and the power outlet. That he had been drugged was obvious because of the glaring time laps and the throbbing headache and bad taste in his mouth.

At least he knew he was still in Winter’s care, because the asshole had not only laid out two guns, three knifes, an axe and a holster for Tony, after fucking tugging him in, he had also placed, right beside that, cold coffee, a water bottle, cookies and a loaf of bread. If Tony wasn’t as pissed as he was – and he was, damnit – it might have been cute. In a totally over the top way.

Buttercup, Tony knew and saw every time they talked, _tried_ to learn. He was dedicated to take care of Tony. He seemed to be already part of the _forcing-Tony-into-a-healthy-lifestyle-or-else-club_ and he didn’t even know there was a club and would most likely attack all other members! (Aside from Peter. No one with a heart could attack _Peter_ and Winter did have a heart.)

Lying back on the surprisingly comfortable mattress, Tony waited. He had thought about trying to break out but it wasn’t a good idea – and if he actually acknowledged it, it was probably a _horrific_ idea. And Winter, misguided as he was from time to time, wanted to help. Tony was sure of that. (And yes, they all would drag him to a shrink and he might even comply because… well… everything.)

Wherever he was, he needed to get into contact with the Avengers asap because at least some of them would be still in Germany trying to find a lead on him. They most probably found out about Winter and there was almost a zero chance they knew they were working together, which, if anything he read was true, would probably not endear Winter to them. It was a problem that Tony would address later. Because right now he couldn’t be bothered (or he really didn’t want to make his headache even worse with things that were out of his control… and wouldn’t his future shrink be proud of him for realising that?).

Even more important: Tony was a whole lot closer to the Tower and he didn’t care one fucking bit what Winter would say, he _needed_ to get back and find out what that fucking disgrace of a hacker had done to his baby boy. He would get Jarvis back and then hunt her down. No one touched Jarvis. No one.

But before he could do that, he needed to get in contact with his teammates and get them back to New York. Then he and Winter had to get back to New York as well. Oh, and if they had time, they also _might_ want to get rid of the fucking Nazi-Organization that had infiltrated the world while Tony had done absolutely nothing despite the clues he had found. Good one, Stark.

But before _that_ he would have to rip the Winter Soldier a new one, because if this should have any chance at all to work, he couldn’t just fucking drug Tony!

Although, Tony had to admit he was also impressed. Thinking back, Winter technically hadn’t lied. He had done exactly what Tony had asked and given him a pill. It didn’t surprise Tony at all that he tried to teach someone who was mostly innocent (at least in his thought processes) to be honest and good and said person promptly knew enough to know how to lie by omission and skid the truth like a fucking pro.

Tony had no idea how Peter managed to still be this sweet and innocent child after all the exposure he had to the walking, talking bad influence that was Tony Stark.

Ignoring all the emotional things he would have to address sooner or later (he hoped for never and if it would just be about Tony, it would be never, but it wasn’t and Steve and Winter deserved _better_ ) he focused on what he would actually have to do as soon as he was back in business (and his _jailor / bodyguard / assassin / puppy / murderer of his parents / newest stray he had adopted because he fucking couldn’t help himself_ would accept that that was actually his job and he could dislike it all he wanted, it wouldn’t make a difference).

He knew that Rhodey would have gotten the files. Without Jarvis (and the first file decrypted) he most likely hadn’t had the servers to decrypt the rest just yet, knowing better than to use military ones. But they would know enough to start to inquire. That meant there was a good chance he and the Avengers were already trying to come up with a plan in the background to take them down. They would most likely want to get them all at once – not that Tony thought that was possible, but better than open war on the streets. There was no way to predict how many people were Hydra agents, even if Tony was sure that it couldn’t be as much as he feared right now. It would be logical to have more agents in like Shield, the CIA and other agencies then the police. But there would be agents too.

That Winter had left was as expected as it was unsettling. He had just proven that he was able to think for himself – and Tony was proud he could! It was _good_ that he was! – still he was almost childlike in his understanding of the world while his skills were those of a stone-cold killer. Until now, he hadn’t expressed anger towards Hydra or a wish for revenge but that didn’t mean that he wouldn’t feel that way now or might in the future. And even if he didn’t remember most of what they had done to him – and Tony almost hoped he was right and that he would never get his memories back – he would be justified in _anything_ he would do to them. It wouldn’t change that it was important to give him an understanding of right and wrong (hopefully from someone who actually understood it), a functioning moral compass (definitely from someone who had one themselves) and a respect for the lives of innocent people.

Yeah, he would try to make Cap or Rhodey do that. If he didn’t have to take Cap with him into the loony bin after he was told that his best friend – Tony would stay with that one for now – had been a Prisoner of War for over seventy years. And had been tortured and used as a mindless killing machine by Hydra, killed Howard and Maria Stark under their control (and had kidnapped Tony, although compared to everything else that didn’t really matter).

Worse still, he wasn’t sure if the others would be angry with him for not fighting Winter more. He had let them think he was kidnapped for far longer than he had to – and he knew how happy he would be about that if any of the others would have been kidnapped. Not that any of the others would be stupid enough to get kidnapped, but the principle stood.

Pepper would kill him. Rhodey would kill him. Peter would probably _glare_ at him. The murder twins would glare as well and possibly murder him in his sleep. Bruce would be sad. And _Steve_ would be disappointed.

Already thinking himself into a frenzy, Tony jerked upwards when he heard sounds from the other side of the steal door – something else he would have to talk about with Winter. Putting him into what looked like a hidden room in a bunker with thick concrete walls, no windows, some mostly empty shelves and a door that (as already mentioned) looked like that stupid dynamite loving coyote had gotten overboard was definitely not okay. _Especially_ since he had just been kidnapped, damnit.

It took the other person almost ten minutes of careful work to get through the precautions. Tony, who had guessed something like that, used the time to get right beside the door, holding both guns, one knife pushed into the holster. He was almost certain that it would be Winter, but if it was him, it would be even more important to show he wasn’t as useless as the assassin probably thought.

Opening the door slowly, Winter knocked three times with his metal hand before he looked inside the room – and directly into a loaded gun.

As predicted there was a satisfied glance in his eyes and he nodded approvingly.

This was getting embarrassing.

“Where have you been?” Even better, now Tony sounded like a 1950s Housewife waiting for his husband. Fucking hell.

Winter raised an eyebrow and nodded to the rifle case he was holding. “Hydra.”

At least he was talking again. Small mercies.

“You were hunting Hydra agents?” Not that Tony was surprised. Of course not, but couldn’t they have _talked about this_? They should have! They also had had a talk about killing, Tony remembered. Vividly.

“Okay, before anything else, I get it, Winter, I do. But I’m fucking pissed at you, right now.” Tony held his voice in check. Still, Winter flinched as if slapped.

“You drugged me, you kidnapped me _again_ and then you put me in here with no way out” (or at least none that wouldn’t have been a hell of a lot of work) “and went out killing, after we had talks about _every single thing_ of what I just mentioned.”

Winter stepped back, nodding for Tony to get out as if that was something he could fix right now. It was not what Tony was hoping for but a start. Hell, Winter was doing better than Tony had after Afghanistan.

Tony followed Winter out in what had to be a massive storage hall.

“Where are we?”

Winter looked at him, his eyes in a mixture of guilt and rebellion.

“New York.”

“City?”

“State.”

“And this place?”

“Hydra.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. That was clever if no one used this place or a hell of a risk if they did.

“Safe for now.” Winter said, letting a bit of petulance in his voice.

“Okay.” Tony turned back to Winter, his hands on his hips – the guns safely strapped to himself and hating that he sounded like Jarvis back in the day when little Tony blew up another lab.

“Winter, we talked about it. You can’t drug and kidnap me.”

“Said pill.”

“Yes, and you know I meant something against the pain.”

“Was against pain.”

“Yes, because I was unconscious!”

“Need sleep.”

“Are you kidding me? Winter, if I don’t want to sleep you don’t have the _right_ to make me against my will!” This he shouted.

Winter flinched back, but there was a crease on his forehead.

“Friends… take care…”

“Yes, they do, but friends also _respect the wishes_ of their friends. Taking the free choice away from someone is violence.”

At that Winter looked stricken.

“Making someone do something against their will is violence. It’s what Hydra did to you.”

Winter’s eyes widened in fear and Tony, without even thinking about it, stepped closer, slowly reaching out to Winter. He didn’t flinch back, but he looked afraid, as if he suspected Tony to hurt him.

“I know you don’t mean it in a bad way, Buttercup, but it doesn’t matter what you _intend_ for if you do something against the will of the other person.” Gingerly, Tony placed a hand on Winter’s arm. “What Hydra did to you was so wrong it makes me sick. That you care for anyone and want to help and protect is amazing, Buttercup. I don’t know where you take that strength from. And because of that it’s important for you to understand what is right and what is wrong. Taking away the choice of someone is _wrong_ , okay?”

Winter shuddered.

“It’s difficult to understand and believe me a lot of people have problems understanding it. Sometimes, and I think that is what you thought you did, there are reasons to go against what someone wants to protect people. Like if there is someone bad who wants to kill and hurt people and you stop that person. But it’s only a good thing if you do it because of fair rules, not because of revenge. And sometimes, friends beg their friends to do something, or try to convince them to do something or to stop doing something to help them, but there are very _very_ few reasons or situations in which it is okay for them to take the choice away from them to help them.” This was way out of Tony’s league and worse too abstract, or so he thought. Winter still hadn’t reacted. He stood there, slightly trembling under Tony’s touch. Not looking at him.

“You wanted to help me with giving me the wrong pill, right?”

Winter didn’t react for a long time but Tony waited, no matter how impatient he was. Finally, the other man nodded slightly.

“You thought I needed rest, so you gave it to me because you thought I wouldn’t rest if you gave me the choice, right?”

He nodded again.

“Would it have killed me if I hadn’t slept?”

At that Winter’s head jerked up and frightened blue eyes looked at brown ones, that Tony sincerely hoped were calm, warm and strict.

“No, it wouldn’t have. Would you have been able to convince me to sleep, especially after discussing with me that we would travel to America? Yes!”

Behind the fear and the guilt was still a little doubt.

“You will never find out whether or not I would have slept because you _didn’t ask_. You took that choice away from me.” The heat behind those words were tempered down because they didn’t have the time for a Tony-freak-out, even if it was guaranteed to happen as soon as he was alone and not the one responsible for another human being who seriously needed help.

Winter still seemed to pick up on the anger. Instead of getting angry or defensive he looked gutted.

“If you had talked to me, or had asked me, we could have come to a compromise. That’s the thing friends do. They talk about things and then find a compromise. And that’s what we need to do here, Buttercup, okay? I understand that you want to hunt down everyone in Hydra and it’s great that you want to protect me. But if you want this to work, we need to compromise, to work together.” Tony still didn’t let go, but his voice dropped in something more final. “If you don’t, I will fight you.”

Winter tensed.

“Right now, I have not much of a chance against you, and I know that. But I also haven’t tried yet. Believe me Buttercup, I don’t want to be your enemy and you don’t want me as an enemy.”

For a long moment none of them said anything.

“Know.”

“You know what?”

“Hydra fear …Tony.”

“Oh, they will do more than that as soon as I _start_.” There was a dark promise in Tony’s voice that he had every intention of following through. They would regret to have ever tried to do anything. They would regret what they had done to Winter. He would _destroy_ them.

“Winter…” The murder-puppy started but didn’t finish. As he wasn’t wordless right now, Tony waited.

“…not …not hurt …Tony.”

“You didn’t want to hurt me?”

Winter nodded, his big blue eyes on him, searching. Begging. There was pain and confusion in them, hope and fear.

“Do you understand how you hurt me?”

Winter hesitated. “Not ask. Not let decide.”

“That’s right, Winter. Will you do it again?”

Winter hesitated and strangely enough, Tony was thankful for that. Because Winter really was trying to understand. He was trying to be honest with Tony.

“…fight…” He mumbled and there was a new desperation in his eyes now.

“Yes, I will fight you, if you keep hurting me or others.” There was absolutely no question for Tony if he would. Deserved Winter to be free and to live a life he wanted? Yes. But if Tony was wrong and he was a danger to the world, he would fight him. (If it came to that and Tony wished it wouldn’t, he would make him the best cell that he could construct. But he would put him away. It wasn’t Winter’s fault but it didn’t change that he couldn’t hurt other people.)

But Winter shook his head.

“We attacked. Protect.”

“Do you mean in case we are attacked?”

Winter nodded.

“Do you want to know if you can decide for me when we are attacked?”

Winter nodded again, anxiously.

“That depends, Buttercup. If it is life or death, like, getting me out of that situation, then it’s okay. Remember I told you, you’re not allowed to kill people that don’t try to kill or hurt us if you don’t have to, but you have to protect yourself if we’re attacked.”

Winter nodded to both.

“This is kinda like that situation. If you have to make a fast decision to save either one of us, then it’s okay. But as soon as that is over and we have even ten seconds to talk, to decide _together_ , then we have to do that, okay?”

Winter seemed still a little dubious, but nodded.

“Okay.” Tony exhaled heavily. “Now that we’re on topic; you killed Hydra agents?”

At that Winter nodded, holding eye contact and not backing down.

“Are you sure that they were Hydra agents?”

Winter nodded again, sharp.

“Okay… See, this is a hard one, Buttercup, because, I understand revenge. I really do. And when I was… well, I killed a lot of people because of it. They were kinda like Hydra. Bad people who were hurting others. It was good that they were stopped. But the way I did it wasn’t good.”

Winter frowned. He still listened – and that was so much more than Tony had hoped for – but he didn’t seem to understand and Tony really wasn’t sure if it was too much at once, too theoretical, too abstract, too complex or if he just sucked at explaining.

“I’m not the right person for this conversation, and it is a very difficult topic on its own but… Let me talk to the others. They will already be working on a plan.”

Winter stiffened.

“You agreed that as soon as we were safer, we would contact the others and up until now, I agreed with you… sometimes. But right now? They need to know I’m fine.”

At that Winter raised an eyebrow and Tony huffed.

“That I’m not longer _kidnapped_ , okay? We need to find out what they know and then we need to get to the Tower and-”

“Dangerous.”

“Yes, I know, Winter, but they did something to… to Jarvis. He is one of _mine_ and no one hurts one of _mine_.” He met the blue eyes, using all of what other people described as charisma and Tony just thought of his will.

“Right now, you can become one of mine, Winter. And as long as you keep trying and learning, I’m going to protect you. I promise.”

Winter stared back into his eyes, a war Tony understood far too well battling in the clear blue of the former Winter Soldier.

“Friend?”

“Yes. We can be friends. If we work _together_.” Tony stressed.

It was hard to say behind the mask, but Tony would have almost said Winter smiled.

“Tony friend?”

“Yes, you’re my friend, Buttercup. And as your friend, I’m going to tell you whenever you do something wrong so that you can be better, okay? That’s what friends do.”

“Protect.”

“Yeah, friends protect each other.” Tony held back a sigh, a groan and possibly falling on his ass.

“Now that that is settled we need a phone, a car and-”

Winter, who looked a lot more relaxed, handed Tony a smart phone. This one android. Tony had half a mind to tell Winter to destroy the embarrassingly excuse for a piece of _technology_ and get him a goddamn Starkphone – before he guessed that was the concussion talking.

“Thanks.” He took the phone and dialled Steve’s number once again. As soon as he had gotten Steve up to speed he needed to call Rhodey and Peter because both would hunt him to the end of the world if he didn’t let them know he was fine – and Pepper. He was so dead.

The call connected and he smiled into the camera. Steve looked better. He still seemed to be exhausted but more alert. More like himself.

“Hey, Cap! The good news is, I’m back in New York! Where are you and our merry band of misfits?”

As luck would have it – Tony didn’t believe in karma (mostly because he was fucked if that concept proved to exist) but by now it was almost not possible to think of anything else but the universe itself hating him specifically – the first shots were fired.

“Oh, come on!” He growled frustrated, while Winter’s metallic hand grabbed his un-shot shoulder hard and yanked.

“Fuck.” Tony stumbled and dropped the phone while Winter pushed him forward, shielding him with his own body.

He was less angry about the fact that they apparently had been found by Hydra and that they were trying to kill them. He was furious because there was a 0.1% chance that the Avengers wouldn’t misunderstand the situation.

If Tony ever got back to them and the Tower – and it might be better to just run away by now – they would probably Rapunzel his ass.

Tony followed Winter’s lead without resistance (he wanted to live and that actually was a situation in which he totally accepted that Winter took over for a while and that had almost nothing to do with the fact that he barely could see straight), not even trying to see their attackers. If it was anyone else but Hydra they would have probably not started shooting as soon as they were in their line of sight.

Winter behind him jolted and pressed both of them behind a small container. The way Winter moved made clear to Tony that he had an exit route. Guessing by the shooting patterns and the frequency of the bullets, Tony thought it was probably around five or six shooters – and none of them especially sharp.

“You got hit?” Tony hissed, not even trying to look Winter over. He wanted to, sure, but as long as he wasn’t hit in a vital organ he would be fine for the time being and Tony didn’t believe for a second that Winter would stop to let him check.

“Functional.”

“Great.” Tony pressed out. “Do you want to shoot your way out of this or do you wanna run?” Because they were going to goddamn compromise. Because Tony had to fucking tell Winter that was what friends did and no matter what horrible things Tony was, he wasn’t a hypocrite and he would try to be as good an example as he fucking could be for Winter.

Winter glanced at him. He had pushed Tony farther behind the container, keeping watch on the edge, a sniper rifle in his hands.

“Okay, let’s stay then.”

Tony clicked the safety off and moved to the other side of the container.

“This, right here? They are going to kill us when they get us and that is if we’re lucky, we have no backup and no way to get help, so we’re shooting to kill, okay?” He glanced at Winter and saw his nod, the expression unreadable behind his mask, but his eyes were sharp and focused.

Turning away, Tony tried to reach the same focus. He was a good shot, not like Clint, but good enough to hit a moving target most of the times. As his head was still barely working, his body almost trembling and he was probably about to throw up, the chances were slightly in favour of their attackers. Slightly.

It, of course, wouldn’t stop Tony from protecting Winter, because there was no way in hell he would let them take him again. No way at all.

Someone had to be a little cleverer as the rest. The bullets had stopped a few minutes ago. The eerie silence was probably supposed to freak them out – as if Winter or Tony would be freaked out by a gunfight.

“Mr. Stark.” The voice was smooth and calm. “Come out with raised arms. The man with you is extremely dangerous and-”

Tony burst out laughing. “Oh, please tell me you’re going to act like you’re here to help me. Not even you _Hydra guys_ could be that stupid, could you?”

“Mr. Stark-” Now his voice was a little more aggravated.

“Is someone recording this? Is this like your evil version of candid camera? Tell me, has anyone _ever_ fallen for this after you tried to shoot them literally not five minutes earlier?”

“We didn’t-”

“No, of course not, you tried to shoot the Winter Soldier, not little old Tony Stark who was standing right beside him.” Tony mocked.

Winter didn’t move a millimetre, didn’t follow the banter. He stood there like a predator just waiting for his prey to make a mistake.

Tony smiled, cruelly. He was known to be able to enrage everyone in under five minutes if he really put effort behind it. He wouldn’t need to put effort behind this.

“There is no way out for you.”

“Yeah, that was what everyone else thought, too, before I got out. It’s a common mistake.”

“You’re surrounded! I-”

At that Winter moved lightning fast, vanishing out of Tony’s line of sight and shots were fired. Tony, never one to let others fight his battles, stepped around the edge of the container.

A bullet grazed his ribcage but didn’t actually hit him because he had been turning in his movement. Ducking, he aimed and shot. Once, twice and the attacker went down.

Turning, he shot at movement that he was fairly certain wasn’t Winter. He missed. Winter didn’t.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a shadow move, turned and fired, hitting dead centre on the first try. As it was a chest protected by Kevlar the woman barely reacted. Tony let himself fall to the ground, shooting even while he fell. This time he killed her, but not before she got him too, hitting right beside the other bullet wound.

Tony couldn’t bite back the scream. Fuck. He couldn’t lose consciousness now, they were still-

A dark shadow stepped forward and Tony lifted the gun again.

It was Winter.

“Got them all?” Tony asked, trying very hard not to let any of the pain show in his voice.

Winter nodded. His eyes, still hard and focused, already softened with concern.

“Hurt.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t Buttercup.”

“Heal.”

“Yeah well, I heal to, just a little slower, alright?”

“Help.”

“Get me a phone and we’re calling for help, don’t worry.” Everything was swimming in front of Tony’s eyes.

Winter moved closer, hovering over Tony as if he didn’t know what to do, as if he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch Tony.

“Can you help me up?”

Winter decided to (most likely) misunderstand that and took Tony in his arms, bridal style. As he was hurting, no one was around to see it and he was almost sure he wouldn’t have been able to walk anyway, Tony accepted.

“Do you have a car?”

Winter nodded again, his body tense but it was evident in the way he carefully moved Tony, that he feared more to hurt him than being attacked right now.

Tony let himself be placed on the passenger seat. It was pitch black outside. He reflected on the intelligence of their choice to fucking use the lights in the ware house that they were hiding in while Winter even buckled him in.

“Can you get a phone from one of the agents.”

Winter reached into his pocket and handed him one that had a pink glitter case. Okay. So, Winter most likely had stolen more than just one phone. Good to know.

While Winter got behind the wheel and started driving, Tony hacked into the phone and dialled a number.

“Hey, Happy- stop screaming, yes it’s me. Can you come pick us up?”

Tony endured the screams, the curses and made sure to confirm a place they could meet.

Then he sent a text to Steve, before throwing the phone out of the car just to be safe.

_Not risking to call you again. I’m mostly fine. See you all at home._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: thanks for reading, comments give me life and I love you guys!
> 
> Everyone who wants to: Tomorrow is De_Marvel_Bunny's birthday! Feel free to congratulate them in the comments :D


	18. Steve: The Heart of the Avengers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers fly back to New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> First of all: the talking carrot has lost! Let's all celebrate this weekend before doubling all our efforts to make the world a better place, starting tomorrow!
> 
> Also you might notice the story now has 28 chapters. I had to restructure the end of the story (after a lot of comments had me panicking because the end wasn't worthy of all your love and ideas!) and while doing so, well... some stuff got shoved into the next installment but I had to come up with more while trying to cut down and now we have 28 instead of 25... 
> 
> Enjoy!

Steve stared at the screen. It was chaos. People were running for cover, two bodies lay bleeding on the ground. There was no question if they were dead. Half of their heads were gone.

Looking away from the gruesome scene, Steve met Nat’s eyes. They were narrowed and hard. She knew what they had to do. What the Avengers had to do in a situation like that. If they were right and someone was hunting Hydra agents, executing them on the street, then they would have open war in a matter of hours.

It wouldn’t take long before Hydra would act. Steve was sure that they would move up their time table and try to do whatever it was they wanted to do. And if they still had Tony…

Natasha’s cell phone rang and after glancing at it, she put it on the middle of the table, looking up at Steve.

Squaring his shoulders, Steve accepted the call.

“Fury.”

“Rogers? I’ve been calling you for three days! You remember that you’re working for _me_ , right?”

Technically, that was correct. But Tony had said he wanted to get the Avengers away from Shield and under the jurisdiction of the UN. Steve still didn’t know if that would be any better or even worse, but nothing had been decided just yet. And after this revelation he was all for leaving Shield behind.

“Answer me! Where the fuck are you?”

“Tony-”

“What did he do this time?” Fury growled and Steve’s patience, already thin, snapped.

“He got kidnapped by Hydra, Director. And before you ask why we didn’t tell you, Shield is compromised.” His voice had been ice-cold and cutting. Fury should be thankful he wasn’t in arms reach of any of the Avengers judging by the death glares concentrating on the phone between them.

“WHAT?”

“The executions just now? Hydra agents.” Clint growled, his hands balled into tight fists.

“That can’t be-”

“Nick.” Everyone stopped at Natasha’s tone.

“I-”

Steve opened his mouth and only God knew what he would have said, when Luca stepped in. One glance to the others was enough to prove to Steve that it was a blessing. Bruce had his eyes closed, but the faint green glint was still visible, Clint looked like he was about to shoot the phone and Nat had gone deadly silent.

Fury, although appreciative of Tony’s genius when he could use it, still had his issues with Tony’s _fucking quirks_ , as he liked to put it. That the engineer had been able to _turn_ his best agents, Steve had heard him mutter those exact words under his breath, seemed to rile him up even more. And then there was the fact that Tony kept hacking Shield for the fun of it.

Nick Fury still hadn’t fully understood that Tony was the heart of the Avengers.

“Mr. Fury.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Luca Agneta. I think you know my father.”

“How-”

“We have bigger issues, Mr. Fury. Hydra is-”

“Prove it!”

Steve stood up from the table, not caring that his chair clattered to the ground. He turned, getting out of the room before Luca and Fury would start to negotiate and try to one up each other.

He couldn’t care less what they did. Someone was in New York killing Hydra agents. They didn’t know much yet but Steve had a feeling that it was the Winter Soldier. There was no evidence to support that. No reason for the Winter Soldier to do that as far as they knew. But if it was the Winter Soldier, had he taken Tony with him? Had he… had he gotten rid of-

Steve bit back a scream that was clawing at his throat, begging to get out. Clinging with both hands to his first decision, his first rule, to not break down again until Tony was safe, he pushed it down. Buried it. 

And breathed. In, one, two, three. Hold, one, two. Out, one two, three, four.

And kept breathing, ignoring the people walking from house to house making the street look more like a military base with very lax clothes regulations.

He was one his twenty-second breath when Clint stepped beside him, his body as tight as his bowstring and as ready to snap.

They didn’t talk. Just breathed, looking at the bustle all around them. At least _someone_ was doing something. They just stood here waiting for their kidnapped teammate to call them again so that they knew what to do. Because Steve didn’t want to think about what was _logical_ to do. What Captain America _had_ to know. What the world _needed_ them to do.

What _Tony_ wanted them to do.

Steve knew that. All of them knew that. It was one of the reasons why Clint was so furious. He knew as well as Steve, as Bruce and Natasha that Tony would want them to fight. To protect the world.

But Steve… couldn’t. He didn’t want to. It was rule number three: Tony’s rescue came first. And it would.

“We aren’t going, are we?” Clint growled beside him, staring at the house on the other side of the street as if it had kidnapped Tony.

Steve didn’t answer.

“We aren’t, right?” Clint hissed, turning to Steve and glaring at him as if Steve _wanted to_.

“Steve! Clint!” Bruce’s voice was almost panicked. Bruce never panicked. Or at least _he_ never showed it.

They stood there for a second longer, Clint a heartbeat from unloading all of his rage on Steve, before he turned and ran into the house.

Steve followed. Not breathing at all.

Ignoring the screaming from everyone around him, his eyes were glued to the TV screen. Shield’s Strike Team was getting taken out one by one. He saw the last two bullets hit their targets before the rest finally found cover.

The shooter, that much was obvious, was not only fearless and didn’t seem to care if he was caught (or didn’t believe he couldn’t be caught), he was as good a shooter as Hawkeye.

While the news reporter tried to explain the sight and Luca and her people were trying to find more sources, Steve looked at Natasha. Her expression was enough for him to know that they thought the same thing.

The Winter Soldier was in New York. And he was picking of Hydra agents.

If Steve was optimistic he would think Tony turned the assassin. If anyone would be able to do that it was Tony. But how often was Steve lucky, let alone _that_ lucky.

It was much more likely that the Winter Soldier had his own agenda. And only god knew what that was. But Tony could be useful to him. So, he would keep him alive, right? Tony was a valuable asset, right?

“Avengers! Come back _right now_. I-”

Clint, finally snapping, jumped forward, grabbing the phone and smashing it on the ground. Everyone in the room stopped for a heartbeat, before continuing as if nothing had happened.

Nat raised her eyebrow at Clint.

“Tony will get you a new one.” Clint growled, just the tiniest bit cautious. At least he wasn’t all gone yet.

“Tony doesn’t have to. He didn’t do anything wrong, did he?”

“Fury-”

“Is doing his job, Clint.”

“I don’t give a fuck!” He stepped right into her personal space, something no one did if their valued their life. “This is about Tony!”

“It’s about the world. And Tony knows that.”

“You-”

“It’s the Winter Soldier, Clint. He is in New York and we know he had Tony.”

“ _Had_?” Bruce hissed, green spreading all over his skin.

“Has.” Nat corrected, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her hands were balled into tight fists, her glare enough to kill. “He will have taken Tony with him. He is still useful.”

Both Clint and Bruce looked pained and Steve understood, he felt like something was constricting his heart, stopping it from beating like it was supposed to. But Nat didn’t look any better. She hid it better than them, but her eyes were screaming.

“Steve!” Clint turned towards him, angry and desperate and Steve hated himself. He trusted Nat, he trusted his gut and still he barely could get the words out.

“We’re leaving for New York.”

“What if Tony is still here! You said-”

“I know, Clint! But Nat is right! You know it’s the Winter Soldier-”

“I don’t! I could have taken the shot!”

“And how many other people could have? Who do we know that is connected to this and could do it?”

“We don’t know-”

“I told you about him Clint! I’ve _met him_. It’s his style!” Nat snapped, dangerously silent in a way that was a sure sign that someone was going to die. Sooner rather than later.

“It was a fucking hit! It’s the style of any assassin!”

“It was _thirteen_ hits in one location in less than an hour on two politicians and the Shield Strike Team! And every one of them was on the Hydra spy list! Not even _we_ would have been stupid enough to try that!”

Steve stepped between them, pushing Clint back before any of them could go for a weapon.

“If we get a hint where Tony is, I don’t give a fuck what Fury orders, I’m going after him.” Clint hissed at Steve, as if he would try to stop the archer.

“I’m going to go with you.” He hissed back. Rule number three. Tony’s rescue came first.

Clint didn’t react to that, just turned and left. Hopefully, to get the Quinjet ready.

While Natasha, still seething, went to tell Luca, Steve turned to Bruce.

“You okay?”

Bruce nodded, tightly. “We’ll get him back.”

“Yes.”

“I get our things.” He stood up, his movements careful and slow.

Ten minutes later they were in the air on their way back home. Thanks to Tony’s genius they wouldn’t even take six hours. It would still feel like an eternity. Everything did right now.

After a short discussion, both Natasha and Steve started to call their superhero allies, informing them of the situations. While the Fantastic Four were going to keep an eye on New York with other heroes, the X-Men were going to go to DC. Rhodes, who kept them informed, was organizing the military, because, as he put it _the Nazi cat was out of the fucking bag_.

“Professor Xavier, I’m getting another call, I-”

“Of course, Steve. We’ll get in contact as soon as we know something.”

“We will too. Thank you, Professor.” Steve ended the call and accepted the video one.

And froze.

Tony was smiling up at him from the small screen. He looked worse than before. His skin pale, the bags under his eyes darker and his eyes almost unfocused. Exhaustion was radiating off of him. Still, he smiled as if everything was going to be okay, because he saw Steve.

“Hey, Cap! The good news is, I’m back in New York!” His voice, even if tired, was almost excited. And he was in New York! They had been right!

Natasha, who had been standing a few feet away hung up on the phone call she just had started with someone and stepped beside him, staring at the phone as if it held all the answers. Or Tony.

“Where are you and our merry band of misfits?”

Steve opened his mouth to tell him that they were on their way. That they would get him. That Steve loved him and-

Shots were fired in the distance and Tony being Tony, looked up in the direction of the shots. “Oh, come on!” He growled frustrated, as if it was merely annoying and not possibly-

The angle changed suddenly and for a split second they saw a man clad in black clothes, a metallic hand and the phone fell to the ground. The camera losing Tony, and Steve felt as if he had lost him all over. Again.

“Fuck.” It was barely audible over running feet and fired shots. But it didn’t sound pained. Or afraid. Or so Steve hoped.

A minute later the call ended abruptly.

Steve stared down at his phone, closing his eyes and exhaling shakily.

“He is still alive. Still fighting.” Nat murmured beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder. It was shaking. Or he was. Steve wasn’t sure.

“He looked okay. He didn’t sound scared.”

“He didn’t?

“No. He is planning something. He is doing something.”

At that he looked up and met her eyes. They were troubled, still afraid but also sure with a hint of… hope?

“What could he be doing?”

Nat didn’t react for a long while, before she shook her head. “I don’t know. But he is okay. We’re going to find him. We’re getting him back.”

She didn’t say that she personally would make sure he would be kept safe. They all would do that.

“I’ll tell Clint and Bruce.”

Steve nodded, looking back down on his phone.

Tony was okay. He was going to be okay.

Taking a deep breath, he called the next person on his list. And then the next. After ending that call, he saw a text message on his phone from a new number.

_Not risking to call you again. I’m mostly fine. See you all at home._

_Not risking to call you again._ Logically, that made a lot of sense. Still, Steve’s heart constricted. What had happened that Tony thought _now_ was an even worse time to call him then the last two times?

 _I’m mostly fine_. This chilled Steve to his core. Tony almost _never_ acknowledged when he was hurt. That he hinted at it right now, when he wasn’t forced to say anything and neither Bruce or Steve was standing beside him glaring him down? It was a red flag if Steve ever had seen one.

 _See you all at home_.

Steve inhaled a shuttering breath.

_See you all at home._

“Nat!” Steve ran to the cockpit, where the spies were, tapping Bruce on the shoulder while passing by, nodding to the front of the Quinjet. Bruce was sitting on his seat, trying to meditate while listening to his music. As this flight was going, the Hulk would come out sooner rather than later. That he hadn’t shown up proved Bruce’s immense strength. Even if he didn’t believe it.

Handing his phone to the spy, he stepped back enough to let her read without crowding her. She tensed further, her eyes narrowing dangerously, before she handed it to Clint, who mirrored her reaction.

Clint handed it back to Nat who held it out for Bruce to take. The scientist hesitated, eyeing the phone as if it was a bomb. When neither of them took the phone, he reached out, inhaling deeply before reading the message.

He closed his eyes after finishing it, breathing calmly. It didn’t change the fear obvious in his posture. It didn’t change the green glint in his eyes when he opened them again.

The silence between them stretched for minutes before Natasha, the one of them that could even outwait Tony in one of his moods, exhaled loudly.

“It could be a fake.”

None of them answered her. None of them wanted to. She didn’t want to say it. It didn’t have one of his jokes, no nicknames, nothing that was specific. The _mostly-fine_ -line could even hint that this wasn’t Tony. That someone had gotten the number out of him.

This could be a trap. There were no specifics. And Jarvis was still down. They could be waiting for them.

It wouldn’t change a thing. They would fly there whether or not it was a trap. They would land there and they would get Tony back.

Almost two hours and innumerable calls later, Steve got a text from Happy. _We have Tony. We’re on our way to the Tower._

Not to the hospital.

They had Tony.

To the Tower.

“How long, Clint?”

On any other day, Steve knew Clint would have told him he was almost a hundred years old and to grow up. Not today. Not when he used that tone.

“105 to 115 minutes. Why?”

“Happy texted. He has him.”

“He has him?”

“He has him.”

“Fuck.”

If he could have, Steve knew Clint would have doubled the speed. His grin, bright and hopeful mirrored his own. Even Nat smiled. She didn’t relax as much as they did, it still could be a trap, but Steve didn’t believe it. Happy, now the head of security of Stark Industries, probably wasn’t on anyone’s list of people to kidnap to fool the Avengers. And there was no way he betrayed Tony.

Not wanting to risk to get the information out there if it was the truth, they didn’t call anyone to verify.

They didn’t tell Fury when he called. They didn’t even tell Rhodes. Nor anyone else they got in contact with. That Tony was (or had been) kidnapped still was almost a secret.

They landed just before 5am on Avenger's Tower. Natasha made sure to take at least some precautions when they got out of the Quinjet, weapons in hands, wearing their uniforms. All but Bruce who, judging by his pinched expression, almost wished they would get attacked.

They didn’t on the roof.

They didn’t in the elevator that was eerily silent without Jarvis greeting them.

Pressing the button to Tony’s floor, all of them tensed again.

Was that it? Was Tony really here? If the doors opened again, would he be there? If so, Steve was sure he wouldn’t be able to hold back. He didn’t want to. It wasn’t going to be fair, pushing his feelings on Tony after what he had been through but if he was fine… If he was okay…

A warm hand pressed on his shoulder. In a calming manner? In precaution? Steve didn’t know and he didn’t care.

The doors opened on Tony’s floor that looked just like always. As if the genius was just around the corner waiting for them, an easy smile on his lips.

Steve stepped out, his heart continuously speeding up, almost bursting out of his chest.

He got three more steps before a man moved out of the shadows, wide shoulders, clad in black, a mask hiding his face. The metallic hand holding a gun steadily, pointing right at Steve.

The Winter Soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think? Is Tony really at the Tower?
> 
> Thanks for all your comments! I love you guys!
> 
> Oh and FYI the next installment (the next two actually) are going to be more like the 13 Things one because let me tell you keeping this something akin to logical is a pain in the ass!


	19. Winter: Thank You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter meets some of Tony's people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Winter glanced to his right watching the slumped man on the passenger seat. He had fallen asleep minutes after they stopped and Winter tried to stop the bleeding of his second bullet wound. It had aggravated the first one, that now was an even angrier red colour.

Tony had been exhausted and distracted enough for Winter to slip his own maintenance. He had asked him if he could help Winter but didn’t try to talk him into it. He just accepted it.

That scared Winter. It didn’t seem like Tony. He was fierce and had fought Winter when he thought he hadn’t slept. That he just accepted it… It seemed wrong.

The only thing he had said before falling asleep was that Winter wasn’t allowed to attack the man they were going to meet. He knew him. He had been with Tony and the kid when they landed in Germany. That happy man was a friend of Tony. Another one of _his_.

Tony seemed to have a lot of people he called his. Like the Avengers. Of course, he had. Tony shone like a light. He was strong, fearless and… good. The only thing Winter didn’t understand was why Tony wanted Winter to be one of his.

There was no reason for Tony to let Winter hurt him. Even if Winter tried to be better. He had hurt him again and he knew that Tony had been really angry with Winter. Still, he hadn’t punished him. He had touched Winter warmly and told him he could be one of Tony’s.

Winter didn’t understand it. He was thankful because he wanted to stay with Tony. He was his mission. The only thing Winter had. The only thing Winter wanted. The only thing he knew aside from killing and hurting people.

And he didn’t want that anymore. He wanted to be good. He wanted to be what Tony seemed to see in him. It made Winter… feel. It wasn’t a good feeling. His heart sped up and his stomach felt heavy. Not exactly like being scared, but too close to not think of fear.

He didn’t understand it, not even everything Tony tried to explain. But he would try. He believed Tony when he said he would fight him. He knew Tony would do exactly what he told him. He trusted Tony. If he said he would protect Winter, he would do that too.

And Winter would protect Tony. With everything he had.

Following the directions the phone provided, he drove them closer to New York City. A slight sheen of sweat had formed on Tony’s forehead. And he had whimpered twice in the last thirty minutes.

Winter was worried. Tony had said the happy man would help them. He had to. Tony needed help.

The meeting point was a parking lot of an office complex in Newyark. It was almost empty, aside from three cars near to the building and a black limousine at the opposite side.

Winter slowed the car, hesitating. This felt like a setup. There were at least six ways to use this location against them with minimal preparation. The limousine could be a bomb. There could be agents in the limousine or sharp shooters in the building. Every instinct in him told him to run. To retreat and find his own way to a place he could control and make sure Tony would be safe.

Before he could ponder more on the matter, someone jumped out of the backdoor of the limousine and was running fast to them. Too fast. Way too fast.

Braking wasn’t an option, the person would reach them in seconds. Speeding up wasn’t either, as behind the limousine was a brick wall. There was no time to turn the car and flee.

Winter’s hand was on the gun he had placed on his lap, already lifting it to shoot the attacker when he recognized him. It was the kid Tony had been with before Winter had taken him.

Tony wouldn’t want him to hurt the boy, right? He had been soft with the kid. Smiling like Winter had never seen anyone smile. But he was clearly enhanced. He could hurt Tony.

Winter was still contemplating what to do, his hand grabbing the gun tighter, when the kid sped up again and was on the car. He ripped the door open while Winter finally braked, the gun raised enough to shoot the attacker.

He didn’t. The kid was crying. Big tears rolling over his cheek, his lip trembling and his eyes focused only on the sleeping man.

“Wha-” Tony started, woken from the abrupt stop, the noise and two arms wrapping around him.

There was a heartbeat Winter put more pressure on the trigger in which Tony seemed distressed, his breathing exhilarating before he recognised the person that latched onto him, too strong hands clutching at his clothes as if they were a lifeline.

And he smiled. There was no way Tony could move, not buckled to the seat and with an enhanced individual all but sitting in his lap. But he smiled. It was sad and happy and warmer than anything Winter had ever seen.

He put the gun down before either of them saw it.

“Hey Petey.” Tony murmured into the curls of the kid who shuddered, before leaning back just enough to look at Tony. His brown eyes, that almost look like the older man’s, were full of tears. But his smile was brimming with happiness and relief. He didn’t say anything, just moved forward again, pressing himself closer to Tony. Who winced.

Winter opened his mouth to tell the kid to _move_ , a good alternative to forcing him to move, at least for now, as Winter thought, but the Kid already moved back, worry open in his expression.

“You’re hurt!”

Tony’s smile widened. “That tends to happen when you’re kidnapped, Spiderling.” He didn’t show any more signs of pain. He even looked more relaxed. As if a heavy weight fell of his shoulders.

“MAY!” The kid half turned, yelling over his shoulder and Winter followed his line of sight. There were two people approaching the car. Slower than the kid, but purposefully. The man was the one Tony had told him about. The one who had been with Tony and the kid in Germany. He didn’t know the woman.

Both looked worried and relieved. The woman had only eyes for Tony and the kid who motioned her to move faster with one hand while the other was still firmly attached to Tony.

The man’s eyes moved between Winter and Tony, his shoulders tense. Winter knew he was armed. He didn’t need to see the weapons to recognize the preparedness in his shoulders and the trained readiness in his stance.

Three against one, because Tony wouldn’t hurt any of them. Were they Tony’s, too?

Winter tensed further when the Kid unbuckled Tony, urging him to move out of the car.

Tony, who had seemed to have forgotten everything but the kid holding on to him, turned to smile at Winter. That smile was warm too, and calming. “We’re okay, Buttercup. That’s Happy and May, they are going to help us. And this octopus here-”

“Hey!” The kid protested, still smiling as if he had never been happier in his short life.

“-is Peter. You remember him?”

Winter nodded.

Tony smile widened, reassuringly, before letting the kid… Peter help him out of the car. He didn’t let any indication slip that he was hurt, but his movements were even stiffer and slower than before.

He needed medical attention.

As soon as Tony stood, the man enclosed him in his arm. Winter heard a shuddering exhale and watched, while getting out of the car, as Tony tried to hug him back with his left arm. He was barely able to move it enough to touch his side but …Peter still clung to his right as if his life depended on it.

“I’m okay, Happy.” Tony murmured, his voice calm and a little wet.

“Bullshit.” Was the response and Winter had to agree. Tony wasn’t okay.

When the man stepped back there were tears in his eyes that he rubbed away roughly before glaring at Winter.

Winter glared back. He moved smoothly and slowly, trying to lure them into a false sense of security, getting close enough that he could step in if Tony needed it. Whether they attacked or Tony’s legs would give out, which, judging by the way he let the …Peter support him, could be any minute.

“Don’t do that again, okay Tony?” The woman ordered, her eyes shining bright but not shedding a tear. She didn’t try to hug Tony, who by now had his right arm around the kid who latched onto his side, pressing ever closer.

Observing the scene, there were sure signs of exhaustion on …Peter. The way he held himself, his pale complexion and dark bags under his eyes that he could keep barely open. It was obvious, even to Winter, that he had been hurting while Tony had been kidnapped. By Winter.

He had hurt Tony’s kid. And the man. And the woman. And probably everyone else of Tony’s. And Tony.

The woman’s sharp eyes were on Tony, narrowing when he winced. He followed her gaze to the visible stripe of bandage, to his sweaty forehead.

“Get him into the car, Peter.” Her voice was calm, nothing in it spoke of urgency but Winter couldn’t help but think of exactly that.

“Can you walk, Mr. Stark?”

“I’m not _that_ old, Spiderbaby.”

“You know I didn’t-”

“Sure, you didn’t. What was it last time, I-”

“Oh my god, Mr. Stark, you didn’t know the meme, I don’t-”

“Yes, they are always like that.” The woman, May, looked at Winter, a strained smile on her lips.

Winter looked at her a moment longer, cataloguing all the things he saw. She was strong willed, she would put up a fight if he attacked, but wasn’t able to actually protect herself against him and she knew that. She loved the kid and liked Tony. And she was afraid of him.

He grabbed their bag from the backseat and followed Tony, his focus split on his smiling face and the man following him, his hand still too close to the gun on his hip.

Winter helped Tony to lie down on three of the seats to the side when the kid didn’t know where to grab Tony without hurting him. The small smile he received from Tony was enough to calm some of the storm in Winter.

While the woman moved forward with a medical bag to examine Tony, Winter sat down beside the door, keeping an eye on all of them.

The man sat down on the driver seat, glancing into the rear-view mirror, his eyes narrowing when he met Winter’s gaze.

They drove off a minute later and Winter relaxed some.

The kid, Peter, sat right beside Tony’s head on the floor, smiling at him, obviously distracting the man while the woman, who had to be a nurse or doctor, worked on his shoulder.

“You’ll have to go to the hospital with this, Tony.”

“May-”

“No, absolutely not. The first looks like it hasn’t been treated at all-”

“That’s unfair, Winter did his best!”

“-and is inflamed. You need to-”

“Just give me some antibiotics and-”

“-see a doctor with this! And the bullet is still in the new one!”

“Just get it out.”

“In a driving car?” She sounded between horrified and frustrated.

“I totally believe in you, May.” There was barely any mocking in Tony’s voice when he said that.

“You’re hallucinating because of the fever.”

The kid’s hand wandered to Tony’s forehead, placing it gingerly there and brushed away some hair strands.

“It’s okay, Petey, I’m fine.”

Winter growled, frustrated. Four pairs of eyes looked back at him. Winter didn’t care. He stared meaningful at Tony.

“Okay, I’m going to be fine. Seriously, Buttercup, this is not that bad.”

The woman huffed. The man groaned and the kid rolled his eyes.

“What would you say if I was hurt like that, Mr. Stark?”

A fierce protectiveness tightened Tony’s expression when his eyes wandered to the kid. “You’re never going to be, kid, or I’ll ground you till you move into some old people’s home.”

“So, it’s not fine?” The boy asked, innocently.

“It’s not that bad for me-”

“That-”

“That’s all I can do right now.” The woman bandaged the wound tightly, before reaching into her bag and held up a water bottle and one pill. “Take this.”

“No.”

Her eyes narrowed and both …Peter and the man looked disappointed.

Tony’s eyes wandered to Winter before he smiled disarmingly at the woman. “It’s not that bad and if someone cuts me open later on, I think I should hold back on the pills. What kind of role model would I be for Peter if-”

“A good one?” The kind asked, worry written all over his face.

But Winter knew. He had drugged Tony just a few hours ago. He didn’t even know what he had given him or how it would react with other medication.

He could have killed Tony.

“I don’t need it.” Tony’s voice held command in it this time. An irrevocable truth. An unmovable fact.

The woman opened her mouth to say something, but the man interrupted.

“You sure, boss?”

“Positive.”

“Good enough for me.”

Tony relaxed and the woman, even though she clearly understood as little as Winter, didn’t push further. She looked questioningly at the rear-view mirror but didn’t ask. Instead she moved back, until she could sit on the same bench as Winter, turning her focus on him.

“What about you? Something I need to look at?” Her voice was strained but still kind.

“Winter?”

He glanced at Tony before his eyes moved back to the potential threat beside him.

“She is a nurse. Can you show her where you have been shot?”

So, he did remember. Winter didn’t move.

“Come on Buttercup, she’ll just make sure you’re not bleeding to death.”

At that he looked at Tony with a raised eyebrow and a meaningful glower.

“Yes, I know it’s fucking annoying, but guess what, welcome to the family. If you’re one of us, you’ll get check-ups and are going to be patched up, because that’s what friends do to each other.”

“You don’t have to make it sound so terrible, Mr. Stark.” The kid had wormed his way onto the same row of seats as Tony, laying almost on the older man. As if he wanted to make sure he couldn’t vanish again.

“But it _is_ that terrible, Spiderling!” He whined, a warm smile on his lips when he looked back at Winter.

“If you want me to have a look, nod. But I know you were shot. I got patched up, now its your turn. It’s what we do for each other.” His tone made sure there was no getting out of it, although Winter was certain that if he refused now, Tony would wait until they were alone. Then he would look after Winter, and that most likely before he saw a doctor.

That, Winter couldn’t risk.

He glanced at May, before looking back at Tony and nodded.

“Great, Buttercup.” Tony’s smile grew even bigger. Absentmindedly, he was playing with the short brown strands of the kid’s hair, who had snuggled even closer to his chest, careful of the injured shoulder.

“You can remove just enough clothes so she can take a look, okay. If you need it all to stop, knock against the window, okay? May will stop.” The last thing he said with his eyes on the woman, a threat underlying his tone. Loud enough, that the kid woke up again, looking from the woman to Tony.

She held his gaze, before nodding. “Yes, of course.”

“Go on, Buttercup. The sooner I know you’re fine, the sooner I can go to sleep.”

That actually was a good incentive. Winter shrugged out of his jacket and showed his right arm. It was a graze that, by now, wasn’t more than a healing scar and dried blood.

“Looks like it’s already healed.” The woman hadn’t touched him, just took a look and handed him some wet towels to wipe away the blood. He did.

“You’re okay?”

It took Winter some time to realize the kid had asked him. When he did, he hesitated. Was he allowed to answer him? His eyes glanced at Tony who smiled warmly at the boy, before meeting Winter’s eyes. With a similar warmth and encouraging smile. It couldn’t hide his exhaustion.

Winter nodded.

“You protected him?”

Winter hesitated again, almost expecting Tony to tell them what Winter had done.

“He did. Got me out of there and back to New York.” Tony answered, his words slightly slurring at the end.

Winter didn’t say anything. Technically, it was true. But it wasn’t all he had done.

“Thank you!” The amount of feeling in …Peter’s voice was almost too much for Winter to stomach. They were happy and heavy and new tears glistened in his eyes.

Winter swallowed and looked out of the window without answering. He had smiled at Winter like he had actually brought Tony back to him.

What had he done to all of Tony’s people? What had he done to Tony if every one of his had been feeling like that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you all for reading and commenting! It means the world to me! 
> 
> I bragged about all of you to a close friend of mine today. As I was grinning like a crazy person at that time (and she is a psychologist) she smiled carefully and congratulated me that I found something I like so dearly. 
> 
> If I stop posting she put me in a mental institution...
> 
> Love you all! Stay safe!


	20. Tony: Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Winter are finally at the Tower!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> can anyone tell me why I decided to study for a master's degree? It took me almost 4 hours to write like 500 words today. In the same amount of time I wrote, proof-read and posted this chapter. Why am I doing this to myself?
> 
> Also since I started this series on July 1st I wrote more than 150k words. I'd say I need help, but I'm really happy so who cares :D
> 
> Enjoy!

Hugging his sleeping kid to his chest, Tony ignored the pain, the fever, the headache, May’s glare, the obvious anger from Happy and how Winter looked like he was breaking down and focused on the arms clutching at him, the calm heart beat and the deep breathing of Peter.

He was fine. Peter was fine. He had hoped it, begged for it in his mind, but now he had the proof. Yes, he was exhausted, probably re-traumatised and it would take time for him to calm down again, but he was here, he wasn’t injured (as far as Tony could tell) and he was alive. Right now, Tony didn’t need anything else.

Closing his eyes, he tried to make a list of everything he needed to do and fast. First, he needed to call Rhodey and Pepper – if he wanted to keep living. And there was no reason to not keep living.

Secondly, he needed to calm Happy down, because his ex-bodyguard was one wrong glance from either grabbing a gun and shooting Winter or setting the assassin off. Both would end in a shootout and a lot of blood.

Thirdly, he needed to make sure Winter was (at least mostly) okay. Tony had been distracted, but it seemed he had realized what it had done to Peter and the rest of Tony’s family when he had taken Tony. Or he was afraid Tony would forget him. Or give him up to the authorities. Or he was hurt somewhere else. Or it was just too much for him to take everything in. Bottom line: he needed to be there for Winter. Shit they hadn’t even yet met the Avengers. The only silver lining? Winter still wore his mask (and hadn’t tried to kill anyone).

Number 4, he needed to get to Jarvis’ servers and look after his baby boy – before that he needed to get Peter into bed, it was obvious he needed to catch up on sleep.

Fifth thing to do: he had to get a hold of Helen Cho and ask her if she could make a house call – if Bruce wasn’t at the Tower already and felt like he needed help patching Tony up.

Sixthly, he needed to get some time alone (preferably with his honeybear) so that he could finally have his panic attack in peace and without scaring someone.

Tony was sure he had forgotten at least something, that would bite him in the ass – Tony had lived long enough to know how this worked.

“Tony?”

He opened his eyes, blinking into the light.

“We’re here.” May hadn’t moved closer, probably because of the black wearing assassin sitting beside her that radiated nervous energy, menacingly and a readiness to take action, which would get people killed.

Number three became number one in that second, especially since he apparently had fallen asleep which he hoped Rhodey and Pepper would forgive him for. If not, he would push Peter at them. No one could resist his puppy dog eyes. (Plan C was telling Winter to safe him, but it would probably take some more time for Winter to adjust before he would understand that it was a joke – or at least enough to know that it didn’t mean to kill them.)

“Petey?” Tony patted Peter’s back with his right hand as much as he could. He was barely able to move at all, the way the boy had wrapped himself around Tony was effectively incapacitating him, as Peter was holding on with all his strength.

“…hm?” Peter mumbled sleepily, trying to press even closer into Tony’s arms.

“We’re here, buddy. Time to get up.”

“dn…wan…sl…”

“Yeah, whatever that is supposed to mean, Spiderling, we need to get up.”

He didn’t even acknowledge him this time.

“Peter!”

The boy jerked up at his name when his aunt said it in _that_ tone. Tony couldn’t fault him for it. If she would have called him in _that_ tone, he would be also standing at attention.

“What?”

“We’re at the Tower and Tony needs-”

“Yes, of course, you need- come on Mr. Stark! Why didn’t you wake me? I-”

“Breathe, kid.” Tony smiled at Peter who had jumped back and was now trying to help Tony up without touching him. The slight blush on his cheeks was enough to widen Tony’s smile.

“It’s okay, Petey.” Tony moved slow but without showing any pain. He wasn’t surprised at all that Winter didn’t move closer to him, but grabbed his right elbow and supported him as soon as he was in reach. And his kid, pure as the freshly fallen snow, beamed thankfully at Winter – who was probably half a second from grabbing Tony and kidnapping him again.

This was still going to be a long day. Hell, he didn’t even know what time it was or what day!

Winter, who had just stepped out of the limousine, tensed, stopping dead and keeping Tony inside the car.

“Buttercup?” Tony pressed his hand on Winter’s shoulder blade, not actually trying to move him – Tony knew his limitations, thank you very much, and in his condition he was no match for the super soldier (in his suit he would be able to kick his ass though) – but to let him know he wanted Winter to move. He didn’t know who was out there and made him react like that, but he could guess. That Buttercup wasn’t shooting, trying to get them out of there or attacking in any other way suggested it was someone he thought of as dangerous but someone of Tony’s. So, either some of the Avengers or Rhodey or Pepper or some of them. (Actually he could rule out Clint because it was to quiet and Bruce because the Hulk would have probably attacked.)

Winter didn’t move.

“Could you all just take a step back and relax? I want to get out of the car.” Tony was careful to make his voice sound relaxed with a slight note of annoyance. Like he sounded most of the time in public: in charge and unimpressed by everything that was going on. He could just hope that someone sensible was out there.

“Come on, Buttercup, let me out.” That, he barely breathed, just loud enough for Winter (and maybe Peter, who was standing right behind him, clutching his left hand carefully in his) to hear.

Winter’s shoulders tensed some more before he stepped aside, one hand grabbing Tony’s elbow.

Tony didn’t need to glance up to know that Winter was glaring at the people in front of him, ready to get between him and the _danger_ in a moment’s notice.

To their luck (although Tony silently cursed, because one of the two people he really wanted to see right now wasn’t here) two of the most sensible people – at least most of the time, not when they had decided to stick with the clusterfuck that was Tony Stark, even if he was forever grateful for their stupidity in that regard – Tony knew were standing beside Happy and May.

Pepper was showing her hard exterior, all clear-cut professionalism, even if Tony saw the clenching of her hands when he finally was in her sights. She had been the same after Afghanistan. She wasn’t one to breakdown where others could see it and potentially use it against her. Tony understood that better than most. Knowing her as well as he did, he saw all the tell-tales of her worry, her grief, the relief and the threat against everyone (including Tony) who would try to do anything that could harm her former employer.

Right beside her was Rhodey, his expression calm and almost cool. His dark eyes were on Winter for a moment longer before he met Tony’s. He had learned to read his honeybear years ago. Even if other humans sometimes still baffled Tony, he _knew_ how Rhodey would react. He _knew_ what it meant when he raised his eyebrow like that. _Knew_ what he needed to know. _Knew_ like nothing else he knew in this world, that he was by his side. That he would trust Tony even if he was against his ideas. Would protect his back even if they fought. That he wouldn’t question Tony even if he told him about what Winter had done.

Fighting against tears, because Rhodey was here and soon, Tony would be able to break, to react to what he had learned. To _feel_ all the conflicting feelings he had been suppressing to the best of his abilities – and he was a fucking pro at it – and know he was safe because his brother would be there to pick up his pieces like he always did.

Tony smiled at Rhodey, answering with it all the questions Rhodey had. He was okay for now, he would tell him everything he could put into words later when they were alone and Winter wasn’t a threat. He wasn’t. Not to Tony and not to them.

Rhodey, perfect, amazing Rhodey nodded in understanding, relaxing his stance and letting an answering smile brighten his expression. He stepped forward – which had Winter step between them, glowering, his hand on the gun.

“It’s okay, Buttercup, they are my oldest friends. If they wanted to kill me they would have done so years ago. Hell, they would have just stopped to save me.” There was fondness in his voice, but also emphasis. Winter would not get between him and his family. He could be watchful and stressed all he wanted, that was his right and hell, Tony understood him, but he wouldn’t get between them.

Winter glanced back at Tony – something that showed Tony more than anything that Winter actually listened – and let him see his panic and desperation.

“Honeybear, if you could move slow and let any and all weapons with Pepper, that would be amazing.” Tony beamed at his best friend, while putting a calming hand on Winter’s shoulder.

“Sure thing.” Rhodey answered easily, as if that was a totally normal thing to request, ignored Happy’s growl and muttering, as he pushed the gun from his shoulder holster and ankle in Pepper’s hand before coming closer with deliberate movements.

His eyes left Tony’s only to glance at Winter, not in question but reassurance as his smile got more calming.

As soon as he was close enough for Tony to touch, he reached out, letting go of Winter as he was sure he would get only rid of Peter if he got a hold of a crowbar and hugged Rhodey close.

“Hey Tones.” Rhodey mumbled into his ear as his arms wrapped around Tony and he had to keep back the sob that wanted to escape his throat. He didn’t let it. The rubbing of Rhodey’s hands on his back was enough reassurance to know, Rhodey knew all the same.

Pressing his eyes closed he inhaled, calming when he smelled the aftershave Rhodey used since MIT when Tony had gifted him with this special ridiculous expansive brand because he liked the smell of it and had told Rhodey that if he liked it, he would never ever have to think of another present ever again. It had worked. Since then he kept Rhodey well supplied and the smell meant safety more than anything else.

For a heartbeat he felt the blistering heat on his skin, the raw and open pain of the old arc reactor in his chest and the thirst clawing at his throat before the reassurance set in. Rhodey had gotten him out then, he could do it this time, too.

Rhodey’s arms around him tightened for a moment, as if he _knew_ what Tony was thinking. Or as if he was back there, too.

“Just so you know, you’re never going to leave this Tower ever again, Tones. Not without my supervision.”

“Love you too, honeybear.” His voice was raspier than it should be.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Rhodey pressed closer for a moment before stepping back and smiling at Tony, a new glance in his eyes. “But I love you too. Even if you are the worst brother.”

Tony laughed.

“My turn!” Pepper demanded and before Rhodey had time to step aside, the redhead pushed him away, wrapping her strong arms around Tony.

He glanced over her shoulder and saw that she had given May the guns who looked disgusted holding them.

“As soon as you’re better, we’re going to have a talk, Mr. Stark. Where would I find someone else to scare all of our R&D with new designs if you got yourself killed?” Pepper was using her stern CEO voice that was known to make grown man tremble in fear. But Tony heard the waver in those words.

“Nothing easier than that.” Tony mumbled into her ear and tugged a little at his left arm that apparently was Peter’s now. “You could have just asked the little genius here.” He saw the way his kid’s face split into a blinding smile that almost hid his exhaustion.

“He is much too nice and it’s still not too late for him to learn what a work-life-balance is.”

“You don’t have one either, Pep.”

“And whose fault is that?” She leaned back, glaring at him as best as she could. The relief in her eyes were too sharp, the slight shaking of her hands too pronounced for it to actually be impressive, but for the sake of her pride, Tony played along.

“Everything is always my fault, isn’t it?” He asked with a self-derogatory smile.

Pepper’s face fell, agony flashing through her eyes before she had her expression back under control. “No. It isn’t.”

Before Tony could ask what he had done wrong, May interrupted, reminding everyone that Tony needed to get upstairs and looked at.

The only reason he wasn’t fighting May on it was Rhodey, standing right beside Peter. He wouldn’t let anyone get to him. Rhodey would make sure it was someone they trusted. Like Bruce. Like Helen.

There had been an awkward moment when all of them had wanted to help Tony but neither Winter nor Peter would let go of him. As he didn’t know how to tell the kid to let go since he was glad to have him close and he wouldn’t tell Winter to let go until they were safer as he saw the stress and growing panic in him, he smiled at the others, asking Pepper if his guestrooms were ready ( _I’m not your damn P.A. anymore! / But are there ready so Winter- /Of course, they are!_ ) and how SI was holding up ( _I’m going to tell you as soon as you actually have been seen by a doctor and not a moment sooner!_ ).

Happy was sent to make sure everything was secure (he only objected a little but was calmed when Rhodey promised to stay with Tony).

Winter’s eyes didn’t leave Rhodey for a second as soon as he had taken his weapons back. He and May were standing before them in the elevator, so that Winter (who had either dismissed Peter as a threat or rated him far below Rhodey, which was fair even if Peter was enhanced) could have them in his line of sight.

“Are you going to call a doctor, Tony? Because you need-”

“Yes, May, just let me take a shower and-”

“A shower? Are you nuts!” The nurse almost shrieked.

It was a good distraction from standing in the too silent elevator. Jarvis’ absence was much more a festering and bleeding wound than any of the new holes in his body.

“Just a little-”

“No!”

“I’ll clean him up a bit.” Rhodey interjected before Tony could lose his temper. He was too tired, in too much pain and had too much to do to focus on May and her-

“Only if-”

“May.” That voice was Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes through and through which stopped May’s outrage, but also had Winter glaring even fiercer at him.

Tony was way too tired for this shit.

As soon as the doors opened on his floor and May and Rhodey got out, Winter tensed again. Everything about him screamed that he was one wrong move or sound or glance away from snapping and starting to protect himself (and most likely Tony) violently.

“It’s okay, Buttercup.” Tony murmured, stepping a little closer and smiling at the masked assassin. “This is my home. We’re safe here.”

Winter didn’t look at him, his eyes roaming over the new space that was filled with potential hiding places, Tony knew because Clint loved to do just that to scare Tony – and oh god, please give Clint enough of a brain to not be here and jump out of some dark corner.

“Come on, Mr. Winter!” Peter stepped out of the elevator, dragging Tony – and therefore Winter – out with him. “No one got even in when the Tower was attacked! Mr. Rhodes made sure of it!” He looked back at the assassin and smiled in his carefree way. “We’re all here to make sure Mr. Stark is safe.”

Winter didn’t relax, but his eyes wandered briefly to Peter as if to assess whether or not he could trust him.

“What about this, Buttercup. You can check the floor and make sure that it’s safe while I stay here with Peter, Rhodey and May and then I’ll get cleaned up and you can have a shower, okay?” Tony didn’t believe for a second that it would be that easy (or that Winter would actually do more than shower in his room, but that was a problem for later, right now it was hard enough to stay on his feet).

Winter stiffened further, his hand on Tony’s arm tightening painfully for a second before he softened the grip. He glanced at Tony, as if to estimate if he could trust Tony to know what was safe right now.

May, just barely acknowledging any of them, moved forward to Tony’s bedroom, a medical bag clutched in her hands.

“We’re safe with them, Winter. I promise you.”

The clear blue of Winter’s eyes flashed with fear but something also settled in them. He glanced from Tony to Rhodey and back.

“Rhodey can take your place if you want.” Tony offered, very much not sure if that was what Winter wanted.

Winter twitched and raised an eyebrow at Tony.

“I trust him, Winter.”

The assassin almost looked defeated when he stepped back. One step. Two. Three and then glared at Rhodey.

Rhodey smiled disarmingly and raised an eyebrow.

Winter waited until Rhodey moved beside Tony, taking some of his weight as he grabbed him around the waist, obviously knowing how weak Tony already was.

The black clad assassin (that, if Tony was honest, probably did look imposing if you didn’t know how small he could be, how lost) glanced again at him and only moved to check the floor when Tony had nodded encouragingly at him.

As soon as he was gone, Rhodey caught his eye. There was worry in them and the question whether or not Tony knew what he was doing. As if Tony ever knew that when it was about people.

“Where are the Avengers?” Tony asked, his voice loud enough for Winter to hear.

“On their way.”

“All of them?” asked, incredulously. He wasn’t sure how long exactly it had been since he sent the data to Rhodey but it had to have been a day minimum. Why weren’t at least some of them back here?

Rhodey raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t know, do you?”

“What-”

Winter walked back into the living room, his movements soundless. Deciding that he needed to pick his battles right now, he turned to Peter, who was still holding onto his arm, already half asleep.

“Spiderling, would you show Winter his room?” Peter’s was the one opposite of Tony’s. There were two more rooms, the one left of Tony’s was Rhodey’s whenever he was here, so Winter could sleep in the one beside Peter’s.

Peter’s grip tightened and so did Rhodey’s. Winter just glared.

“Oh, come on. Winter, you need a shower. Rhodey will chaperone me, promise, and as soon as I’m out of the bathroom all of you can stalk me again to your heart’s content.” That was something else he would have to tackle on another day. For today (and probably the foreseeable future) he would have at least one shadow. Brilliant. Fuck, he needed some time alone.

“Mr. Stark-”

“I’m not even asking you to go to sleep Peter, even though we all know you need it.”

“Look who’s talking.” Rhodey grumbled.

Tony met Peter’s gaze, his smile losing some of the edge of his voice. “I’m alright, kid. Just need to clean up.”

The hesitation was written all over his posture and expression. It seemed to be actually hard for Peter to let go. But he managed. Just barely.

“Okay…” He exhaled harshly. “I’m right back!”

Tony nodded at him. What had he done to deserve a kid like Peter?

“Come, Mr. Winter. I’ll show you your room.” Peter smiled at one of the world’s most feared assassins – and there was no missing the way Winter almost flinched.

His panicked eyes met Tony’s and he was sure that they were panicked for another reason. Tony understood. He too wasn’t all that happy to let Peter be alone with Winter. But the kid needed to feel useful or he wouldn’t get a second on his own.

And Winter… He wouldn’t hurt the kid. Tony had seen the gun pointed at Peter when he had hugged Tony back in the parking lot. He had seen the flash of panic and understanding in Winter’s eyes. He wouldn’t hurt Peter. He _knew_ Tony wouldn’t forgive him if he did. He hadn’t even tried to hurt Rhodey or Happy who he clearly saw as potential threads (and he was right, even if they would never hurt Tony, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill for him).

“It’s okay, Buttercup. I’ll be right behind that door.” Tony nodded towards his bedroom.

Winter didn’t move.

“I’ll promise. You can guard the floor as soon as you have showered if you like.”

Winter raised his eyebrow minimally.

“The Avengers will probably come soon-ish. But remember, they are friends, too. You better not shoot anyone stepping foot onto the floor if they don’t try to kill anyone, alright?”

There was some rebellion in his eyes, but he nodded. Once.

“Great! Let’s get going!” His voice was too cheerful but finally everyone moved. Winter waited until he was through the door, checking his bedroom one more time with his eyes, before he followed Peter.

Peter would be fine. Winter would be fine.

Tony exhaled.

“It’s alright, Tones. It’s going to be alright.” Rhodey held him closer, mumbling into his ear.

His honeybear helped him out of his clothes and to wash him. Modesty between them had been kicked out of the window in their second semester when Tony had stomach flu and Rhodey, too good for the world, had taken it upon himself to clean him up.

Tony heard the vibrating of Rhodey’s phone. There was no way he could tell his best friend what it meant to him that he ignored the world when it needed him just because Tony was about to have a freak out. Not that they had time for it now.

After helping him into a pair of pyjama pants, Rhodey hugged him again. “It’s going to be alright, Tones, I promise.”

Tony clenched his right fist into the back of his shirt and nodded once, his face safely hidden in Rhodey’s broad chest.

They stood there for a moment, trying to compose themselves. Trying to calm down, because they had to face the world again. Rhodey would have to go back to save the world from Hydra and Tony would have to try to calm down a freaked out, brainwashed assassin before the Avengers came home and with them said assassins ex-best friend that he didn’t remember anymore (and the man that Tony loved, but that was beside the point and he was too emotionally instable right now to even think about that).

Tony unclenched the hand in Rhodey’s shirt and leaned back.

“You’ll come back?”

“Do you really think I would waste money on a hotel if I can sleep here?” There was humour in his dark eyes, the kind that answered the unspoken question. He would come back to pick up the shards Tony would break into as he always did.

Tony smiled. “I knew there was a reason you kept me around.”

“Damn straight there is.” Rhodey stirred him out of the bathroom, pushing him towards the bed. “I’m going to call Helen now, she is on standby since you were taken.”

Of course, Rhodey had already thought of it.

“Bruce is also ready as far as I know.”

May opened her mouth to protest but the stern expression of Rhodey silenced her. Later, Tony would feel bad about it. May was a great nurse, a perfect parent to Peter and a good friend to Tony. Hell, she allowed Peter to stay over after getting to know Tony. She didn’t deserve this, but right now, Tony had to keep together what he could and there was just no way he could accept some stranger near him while he was vulnerable. Even May, as much as he liked her, was already pushing it.

Patting Tony’s once more before stepping back, Rhodey opened the door and to no one’s surprise, Winter stood right behind it.

“Winter?”

The assassin straightened even further, glaring at Rhodey when he addressed him.

“I have to go take care of some things. You make sure that Tony stays inside the Tower, alright? You protect him.”

Winter stared at Rhodey as if he had grown at least another head. There was shock in his eyes so pronounced, Tony almost feared he would faint.

Rhodey didn’t show any signs that he even saw it. His honeybear was the best man on this fucking planet and there was no reason for him to stay with Tony. No reason for him to trust the person he had to know had kidnapped Tony in the first place. But he did, because he knew Tony had decided to protect and help him. He must see something in Winter like he saw something in the scrawny alcoholic fuck up Tony had been years ago – at least the scrawny part had changed. Probably something broken that he just couldn’t help but wanting to mend, to heal.

Winter glanced at Tony, disbelief obvious in his eyes. Tony just smiled.

The assassin looked back at the Colonel, reading his posture, judging if he actually meant it. And nodded.

“Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Until then, you and Peter keep him safe.”

Winter nodded again.

Rhodey glanced back, worry almost completely hidden behind a smile. “Try to keep out of trouble for at least an hour, okay?”

“No promises.” Tony scoffed, ignoring the way May’s fingers clenched in his side at that. Currently, she was looking him over again – and had just found the graze on his ribs.

“Where is Peter?” He asked Winter when Rhodey left with an eyeroll.

Winter nodded to his side indicating his bedroom.

“Fell asleep while you showered?”

Winter nodded. Good. Tony had hoped for that.

“He didn’t sleep while you were gone.” There was no hostility in May’s voice, but Tony heard it nonetheless. The kid looked like he hadn’t slept in a week (had it been a week?) and that was his fault.

After supervising for a couple more minutes, Winter almost closed the door to the bedroom, leaving it just slightly ajar and stepped further into the living room, judging by the movement of his shadow Tony could see through the gap.

Closing his eyes, he tried to calm enough to be able to get through whatever the next few hours would bring him.

If Rhodey had Helen on standby she would be here in either a couple of minutes or hours. It depended on whether or not she had been able (and willing) to abandon her work at once. There had been no reason to do so when they hadn’t even known when (or if) Tony would come back.

He was woken by a shot and screams. Before he knew what was happening, Tony was out of the bedroom door.

Peter seemed to have done the same thing, although he was alert, he looked confused and nervous from the assassin to the rest of the Avengers and back.

Winter stood in the middle of the living room, two guns trained on the Avengers. One he had obviously just used to fire a warning shot just centimetres – yes centimetres, Tony used them whenever he could – from Cap’s foot. Which was what Tony had asked him for.

Tony wanted to address that, to calm Winter and defuse the situation, to look at his teammates and find out how pissed they were, when he looked up and met Steve’s blue, beautiful eyes.

Tony couldn’t help himself. He smiled, all the stress, the fear finally dissipating. If he had felt safe when Rhodey held him, now he was finally _home_.

Steve was _here_.

Everything would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually like this chapter, so I hope you like it too! I don't know if it's obvious, but I prefer to write Tony :D
> 
> As always: your comments give me life, I love all of you amazing people and stay safe!


	21. Steve: The Winter Soldier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers, Tony and Winter are finally all at the same place. Good thing there is no tension whatsoever between all of them, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, 
> 
> after not being able to write one lousy chapter on my paper, I wrote this one instead. The one for my paper is supposed to be like 400 words tops. And I can't get it done. This is ten times as long! Sometimes I hate my brain...
> 
> Whatever. Enjoy!

The Winter Soldier glowered at them, lifting a second gun that he aimed at Natasha. A logical choice, Steve thought, for just a second too stunned to react to the threat before him. To the person who had taken Tony. Who had hurt Tony. Who had staged it so that they had thought he had killed Tony.

The low, threatening growl from behind him rooted him back in reality. Bruce was growling, obviously fighting with the Hulk for control now that Tony’s kidnapper was in smashing distance.

But they couldn’t let the Hulk lose. What if Tony wasn’t here? What if-

In that moment one door farther down the floor was pushed open and Peter ran out of it, almost silently, like only someone with enhanced senses (or Nat and Clint) could move while running and the Winter Soldier tensed further.

Steve, not thinking at all, moved forward. He had to get between Peter and the assassin! He had to protect Tony’s kid and-

A bullet hit inches from Steve’s foot and strong hands were on his shoulders, holding him back.

“Mr.-” Peter began and Steve opened his mouth to beg for the kid to _run_ , when the door to Tony’s bedroom was pushed open hard enough for it to crash into the wall. The Winter Soldier widened his stance, moving subtly closer to the man running into the middle of what would become a blood bath as soon as one person moved over the invisible line.

Of course, it was Tony. Running in front of a gun while apparently still kidnapped and Steve wanted to grab the genius and shake him until he found his freaking sense of self-preservation.

He didn’t. He stopped cold, watching as Tony stopped beside the assassin and it took him a moment to look up at the other man’s face.

What had they done to his Tony? Every millimetre of visible skin was discoloured by old and new bruises. As he was only wearing pyjama trousers it was quite a lot of marked skin. His left shoulder, that he favoured, was loosely bandaged, still, blood already dampened the white material. On his side was another bandage. He looked like he had been beaten for the whole four days they had him.

Five days. It was already the fifth day.

Letting his eyes wander higher, he was almost blinded by Tony’s smile. It was one of the softest Steve had ever seen on the genius’ face, including all the times he had smiled at Peter. It was full of love and life, of relief and happiness.

Steve felt tears well up in his eyes. Tony was right here. He was _right here_ and whatever they had done to him, it hadn’t broken him. The light in his eyes shone as bright as ever. He was going to be okay.

Without wasting even one single thought on the situation they were in and the very deadly assassin that had already fired a warning shot at him, Steve stepped forward.

The only reason he wasn’t shot this time were the hands on his shoulders holding him back (just barely) and Tony, who had stepped before the gun still pointing at Steve.

He wanted to scream at the suicidal genius to fucking get out of the way! Steve could take a bullet but Tony already looked half dead, he couldn’t- and stopped dead when his Tony placed a hand calmly on the hand that held the gun and smiled up at the assassin. His kidnapper. His torturer.

“It’s okay, Buttercup. They’re safe.” Tony’s voice was warm and calm and everything Steve had missed. It barely mattered that he was talking to the Winter Soldier and not Steve. It should matter. One hand in his shoulder was clawing into him, as if to demand Steve to realize what this was. He didn’t. He didn’t want to. Tony was here and they would get him back. Right now.

The Winter Soldier didn’t move. His gun was still pointing at Steve, he had moved the position enough to shoot past Tony’s head. Steve approved.

Turning around, his hand still on the assassins, Tony smiled at all of them, although exhaustion was visible in every line of his face. His joy was too.

“Maybe leave your weapons behind and move slowly. Winter is a little on edge right now.”

It didn’t even occur to Steve that it could be a stupid idea to follow that suggestion. That it could be a trap. That it could get him killed.

He let his shield clatter to the ground, ripped free of the hands still trying to hold him back and moved forward, his eyes trained on the beautiful brown ones that showed Tony’s light. He tried to move slow and it must be enough as he wasn’t shot dead, but Steve couldn’t have said whether or not he moved slowly.

But it felt like an eternity.

Steve barley registered that one of the guns moved closer to him, that it almost touched him, because it was the same moment he finally reached Tony. He enclosed the smaller man in his arms, he pressed himself close to the warm body, trying to keep his strength in check, trying to not hurt him even more. Trying to hide him with his body, to make sure he was _there_ , he was _safe_ and to let him know that Steve would never let him go again.

Tony hugged back with his right arm, the left hand still on his kidnapper, tapping Steve’s back twice in quick succession and Steve loosened his grip some. Tony didn’t try to move away. He pressed closer in Steve’s arms.

Even if the genius had tried to move backwards, Steve wasn’t sure if he would have been able to let go. He pressed closer, too, hiding his face in the brown curls of Tony’s hair and let the tears fall that he hadn’t cried while Tony had been gone.

Tony was alive.

He heard his heartbeat. He felt it through his uniform where their chests were pressed together. He moved slightly away, remembering that the Arc Reactor must be hurting Tony, but the genius just moved closer, again.

He heard Tony’s breathing and felt the warm air hitting his chest.

The tears kept falling and Steve didn’t care if Tony felt them in his still damp hair. A shuddering exhale escaped his lips and he pressed his cheek to his genius’ head, closing his eyes.

Right now, it didn’t matter what happened. He just focused on Tony’s steady heartbeat.

“We’re alright.” Tony’s voice is steady, calm and full of warmth. Steve wasn’t sure if he said it to him, the Avengers, his kid or the assassin, but he believed him.

There was the noise of movements, of heavy breathing, the absolute knowledge that he was watched by more than one person. And Steve just held onto Tony.

“Everyone, calm down. No one is allowed to shoot anyone, alright? Winter, they are my friends, we talked about it. Brucey, deep breathes, I’m fine, everyone is fine, okay? I’ll need your steady hands in a minute, so Hulk, if you can hear me, I’m fine, there is no reason to come out. We’re going to play some other time, okay big guy?”

But before anyone could even answer, or Steve could decide if he should do something more than cling desperately to Tony, the genius placed his hand on Steve’s back and he relaxed further into the hug.

“Red, there is absolutely no reason for your gun, just put it down. Winter, you too, this is getting ridiculous, you know? This is not a Western and it is not high noon.” He exhaled harshly through his nose. “Fuck what time is it anyway?”

“Just after five am.” Peter supplied and yawned. There was the rustle of clothes and someone – Peter – leaned against Tony’s side and thus against Steve’s arm. His heartbeat was slowing down, even if Steve felt the preparedness in his tense muscles leaning against them. The kid was calm but would be ready for action in a heartbeat. And the Winter Soldier, as far as Steve was aware, hadn’t tried to shoot him for moving closer to Tony.

“You sure we can trust your judgment if-”

“Shut it birdbrain, my judgment is impeccable like it _always_ is.” Tony drawled. “Pepper and Rhodey didn’t let themselves be stopped by Buttercup here.” There was a challenge in his words and as his hand left Steve’s back, he must have beckoned the rest of his family over.

“As they aren’t here anymore I take it your puppy there killed them?” Clint’s voice was smooth and calm, underlying it was a hard edge.

“No.” All of his earlier playfulness was gone from his voice and Steve felt Tony tense in his arms. “If you don’t believe me, call them.”

“Jeez, asshole, calm down. You’re kidnapped for five days and when we find you, you’re at home, look like you have been run over by a truck at least twice and you have your kidnapper with you. _Excuse me_ for being cautious.” The archer growled.

Tony moved in Steve’s arms, and mumbled something calming to the assassin. Seconds later, Clint pressed close beside Steve, hugging all three of them.

“Damn this feels weird.”

“I would say something, but Peter is _way_ too young to hear that.”

“Oh god, Mr. Stark! Why would you even-”

Tony chuckled and Steve felt the way Clint’s muscles relaxed at the familiar sound.

“Fuck, Tony, you scared Steve half to death.” The pure relief in his voice was enough to let all of them know what Clint actually meant, still Tony tensed in their arms.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re going to make me pay for it.” The humour was hollow this time and Steve could have kicked Clint.

“I didn’t-”

“Whatever, birdbrain.” He struggled a little in Steve’s arms, as if to check if he could wiggle himself out of the embrace. He couldn’t.

“Come on, Brucey, your eyes are barely green anymore. Come over here and hug me! The sooner we get this over with the sooner you can check me out-”

Steve heard a harsh snort from their not-that-kind-of-doctor.

“-and that way we don’t have to drag poor Helen away from her studies just because _someone_ thinks I have to be checked by a doctor.”

“ _You have been shot twice_!” That was May Parker’s voice, but Steve didn’t relax at the realisation. Tony had been shot twice.

“I’m not that kind of doctor, Tony.” There was no trace of Hulk in Bruce’s voice. Just exhaustion and a hint of annoyance.

“You’re my kind of doctor.” Tony’s tone was light. It didn’t distract Steve from the fact that this meant Tony’s only first aid with two gunshot wounds was most likely from the assassin and the distraught nurse. That didn’t calm him in any way.

“Tony-”

“No, really, Bruce.” There was something else in his words now. Something demanding. Something pleading, and Steve hugged Tony a little closer.

Clint stepped back at that, his hand brushing against Steve’s and he met the gaze of the other man. He was worried. Something was wrong. Aside from the assassin standing right beside them.

“I don’t-” Bruce sounded miserable and Tony, who had been holding on admirably, snapped.

“Fuck this.” He pushed at Steve, which had Steve hugging him only closer in a flash of panic.

“Winter, put the gun down. We’re safe.” Under the annoyance was something too close to desperation.

“Bruce, I promise, he is not going to hurt you or me or any of us, because we’re all _friends_ here.”

Clint snorted, but Tony ignored him.

“So, get your ass over here, or I’m coming over there, Cap and all.”

Steve glanced over his shoulder and met the thankfully brown eyes of the other scientist. They were desperate and it was obvious to Steve, that Bruce wanted to come over, to hug his friend and be reassured that he was _here_ and mostly safe.

“Come on, Brucey, we don’t have all day. You too, Red.”

The slight waver in his voice was what broke Bruce’s resistance, Steve was sure of it. He moved slowly, carefully, as if he feared the assassin would attack him at any moment. Or as if Hulk would take over to get to his Tin Man.

The Winter Soldier, whose expression was hidden behind the mask, glared at all of them, Tony too, his eyes twitching between them, but staying on the Black Widow the longest. Steve had to approve of that as well. Sure, he was holding onto Tony and literally just had to hug him too tight to hurt him, but if he was in the skin of the assassin, he wouldn’t leave the Black Widow out of his sights as well.

When Bruce stepped close enough to hug Tony, Steve loosened his grip some, giving Bruce enough space to not crowd the other man who had issues with touch if he didn’t initiate it – or if it wasn’t Tony.

The shuttering exhale was all Steve needed to hear to know Bruce was finally calming down.

“It’s okay, Brucey, I’m alright.” Tony moved his arm to pat his science bro on the back and a smile, even if it was an exhausted one, sneaked back into his voice. “We’re fine. Everything is fine.”

There was a small twitch from the Winter Soldier but before Steve could decide what to do, Tony huffed.

“As good as fine. We really have to teach you the glory of the white lie, Buttercup.”

Steve looked up in time to see the slight narrowing of the Winter Soldier’s eyes before he let his gaze wander all of them and settling on Natasha again.

Bruce pressed a little closer, exhaling calmly, before he let go and stepped back, his hands wandering over the bruises on Tony’s skin, that Steve tried to ignore.

“Two gunshot wounds?” He asked, glancing towards May who stood beside Tony’s open bedroom.

“Yes, and one of them is inflamed. He also has a graze on his side, a severe concussion, I think, and bruised ribs.”

Steve swallowed. What had Hydra done to him? His eyes wandered to the assassin. What had _he_ done to Tony?

“Tony, we need to get you into bed. Did you call Helen?”

“In a moment and Rhodey did.” Tony said, shrugging his shoulder lightly.

“Now.”

“Not before I got a hug from Nat.” The finality in his tone was absolute. Tony never demanded anything from them. Not anything important anyway. Nothing he really wanted. That he demanded something now, and a _hug_ from _Natasha_ no less, meant it was important.

Steve glanced at their female spy. She still held her gun in her hand, although she hadn’t pointed it at the Winter Soldier yet. Her posture was calm, but everything about her screamed danger. Of course. She had told Steve about who the Winter Soldier was. Christ, she had been relieved when she thought Tony was dead, because it meant he couldn’t be longer tortured by the monster that was now standing right beside them.

And strangely enough, Steve couldn’t fault the Winter Soldier for keeping his gun trained on the Black Widow or on any of them. It was obvious enough that Tony had the situation under control for the moment (or Steve hoped so) but all of them would attack the assassin the second there was any doubt about it.

Heck, the moment Steve would let go of Tony would probably be the same moment he realized who stood beside them. And then… would he attack him? Would he try to kill him?

“Come on, Red.” Tony’s tone had changed again. It was more reserved then before but with a longing that ripped at Steve’s heart strings.

Tony had just been through hell, he had been beaten and shot and god alone knew what he had to do to get here with the Winter Soldier and everything he did was so clearly for all of them and not for himself. For a second, he pressed his eyes closed. How could he ever deserve someone like Tony, who, after being held prisoner by Hydra, was holding Steve together? Was keeping all of them calm? He didn’t. This was his fault and-

“Nat, you know I would never bring anyone here who could be danger to us. To Peter.” There was a pleading edge to his words that cut straight through Steve’s heart and he hugged him a little closer again.

“Mr. Winter didn’t-” Peter tried, obviously as affected by Tony’s tone as Steve.

“I believe that you believe that, Tony. That’s how brainwashing works.” Natasha’s words were quiet. Pained.

Tony flinched in his arms and Steve wanted to protest, but could he do that? They didn’t know what Tony had suffered. They couldn’t know what they had done to him and he had brought his kidnapper with him. Even if Steve didn’t want to think about it. Even if he didn’t want to hear it, Nat, as always, was the voice of reason, trying to keep them save when the rest of the Avengers didn’t want to see reason.

“Let me go.” Tony’s words were as quiet as Nat’s. They were strong. They were sure.

It took Steve almost a minute to step back, one hand circling around Tony’s wrist.

He followed the genius’ dark eyes to their last family member. Her eyes, dark and hard, focussing on Tony as if she desperately wanted to believe him but couldn’t.

His genius ignored the prodding of Bruce’s hand, the way Clint stepped closer. He ignored the disapproving Winter Soldier, his exhausted Kid leaning against him and Steve, holding onto his wrist. His sole focus was Natasha.

Steve knew how it felt to have those eyes set on oneself. Although he was sure Natasha wouldn’t feel the rush of desperate emotions he did whenever Tony looked at him with that focus.

The Black Widow, famous for her control, shifted under the gaze. It was that moment Tony softened. With it some of his masks slipped and pain and exhaustion became more prominent in his expression and posture.

All Steve wanted to do was hug him close again and carry him to a bed where Bruce would be able to take care of him. And Steve would guard him.

“If you really believed that, Red, you would have shot me already.”

The Winter Soldier twitched forward but one calm “Winter!” from Tony made him stop dead.

Tony smiled, sad and hurt, first at his kidnapper, patting his hand. “She is my friend, Buttercup. I trust her with my life.”

Both of the probably most feared assassins on the planet looked doubtful at Tony after his declaration, but he didn’t seem to care. He kept his warm eyes on the Hydra assassin as if _willing_ him to understand. To step down.

There was the smallest of eyebrow twitches, but Tony’s smile widened a little and he turned back to Natasha, holding his left arm as high as he was able too, the strain obvious in his voice. “Come on Red, fucking hug me.”

Natasha didn’t move, although Steve could see how desperate she was. That he could see it at all, in the way her body was angled towards Tony, the way her eyes werw fixed on him and not the threat right beside him, the way her lips were pressed together. It all screamed her want, her need to assure herself that Tony really was here. Like all of them had.

“Okay.” There was no annoyance in Tony’s voice when he breathed that word. He took a step forward, freaking all of them out. The Winter Soldier stepped into his path, blocking it, while Steve’s and Peter’s hand tightened on the genius’ arm and even Clint reached out to him, while Bruce held onto his uninjured shoulder.

“I’m going to say this for the last time. I’m perfectly safe right now. Do any of you think _Rhodey_ would have left me here if I wasn’t? Do you think I would let Peter be here if we weren’t? And, Buttercup, seriously, you’ve met Petey, do you think he would be as calm as he is if I was in danger?”

To Steve’s surprise the piercing blue eyes flickered to Peter, who, to his credit, let go of Tony’s wrist, even if it was obvious how hard it was for him.

“They are safe, Mr. Winter.” The kid smiled at the assassin, even if it was slightly forced.

Cursing himself for it, Steve forced his hand to slacken. To let go of Tony. As soon as he didn’t feel the other man’s body heat, he had to suppress a violent shiver. Tony was right here. He was right in front of Steve. He was here. He was safe. He was surrounded by Avengers and even if Tony would be wrong and the Winter Soldier wasn’t on their side as he so obviously believed, and all of this was a ploy of Hydra to kill them, they would be faster. They would stop him and keep Tony safe.

As if on cue Clint and Bruce also let go and Steve had to bite back a whine.

“Now, Buttercup.”

The Winter Soldier tensed, looking into Tony’s eyes as if he looked for an answer in them, before he stepped aside. Both guns pointed almost on the ground.

Exhaling, Tony took a step forward. As no one jumped forward, grabbed him, threw him to the ground or started shooting, he kept walking.

Steve wanted to do all of the above. But he didn’t.

Natasha eyed Tony with a desperate suspicion that hurt even Steve just watching those two who had taken longer than the rest of them to finally trust each other. By now, he was sure, there were few people they trusted more than each other. They had a very special way to take care of each other, almost as if they understood the other in a different way as the rest of the Avengers.

Tony stopped right before her, opening his arms, his left moving just barely. Steve could only see part of his expression, but it was soft, understanding and apologetic. As if he had done something wrong when he was the one that had been taken and-

For a minute Natasha just looked at him. Almost as if she was frightened. As if Tony’s arms were a trap that would kill her as soon as she would give in.

Her expression changed, barely noticeable, but there was a new emotion in her eyes as she carefully and slowly reached out to place her hand on his cheek. Tony leaned in the touch. The angle was wrong for Steve to be sure, but he was almost sure Tony moved his lips before Nat surged forward, wrapping her strong arms tightly around the torso of the genius.

Tony struggled for a second under the force, before he hugged her back as fiercely.

Winter, who had flinched and lifted his gun, didn’t move.

It was almost deathly silent while Natasha and Tony embraced each other. Steve tried to look away, to give them privacy as both of them didn’t like to show their feelings out in the open like that. But he couldn’t look away from his genius.

There was the slightest movement of Nat’s shoulders and Steve was almost glad that he wasn’t the only one that had lost his composure.

Tony mumbled something into her ear, to low even for his enhanced hearing, his right hand brushing over her hair, when Natasha pressed herself closer to him.

She must have caught one of the many wounds, or Tony finally had reached his limit, as he hissed, almost inaudible. Before Steve could even think to move, the Winter Soldier was already on his way. A heartbeat later he stood beside Tony and Nat, pressing the muzzle of one gun to her temple, growling.

Nat froze in her movement, while Tony, calm as ever, pushed his hand between the muzzle and Nat’s head, smiling up at Winter with a relaxed happiness that constricted Steve’s heart in his chest.

He still didn’t know how hurt Tony was, what he had endured or what the consequences of his captivity would be. He guessed that he was hurt worse than he let on, he had to be traumatized even if he didn’t show it.

But it all paled in comparison to the obvious fact Steve had tried so desperately to ignore: Tony had made the Winter Soldier one of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Savor the fluff as long as you can :S
> 
> As always: Stay safe, love all of you brilliant readers, especially all of you who keep commenting, you keep me going! (And my brain that just doesn't stop getting ideas... As I told jinxquickfoot today, I have enough ideas to keep me going for a long while... and I did promise you a wedding, didn't I?)


	22. Winter: A Teeny Tiny Kidnapping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter has never been more stressed out in his life. It can't get worse, now, can it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news, everyone, I'm bonkers and obviously addicted to writing this story.
> 
> Also, new goal: 100k words for "Winter has come for Tony Stark". Shouldn't be too hard ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

Winter couldn’t remember a time more stressful than the last couple of hours. Granted, he didn’t remember anything from before the chair a year ago. Still, he was almost sure that stress like this was something he was just learning. But regardless of that, he was sure he was right. He couldn’t remember a situation where he had been more stressed than right now.

Also, he had been right. Feelings were exhausting.

Being outnumbered normally wasn’t a problem for Winter. It had never been before. But as he wasn’t allowed to harm them there was little he could do.

He wasn’t even sure what he wanted to do.

The bad feeling, he had had before, was back in full force and Winter tried to ignore it but couldn’t.

Tony had never smiled so much. Sometimes it was sad or tired but above all of that, it was kind and warm. It hurt Winter to see it. Even if he sometimes smiled at Winter, too.

Tony kept his word. He stepped between the Avengers and Winter. He didn’t abandon him. He didn’t yell at Winter or punish him. He didn’t tell them what Winter had done.

He didn’t do anything but smile and plead with them, obviously hurting. As all of them were hurting, too. Winter saw it in their eyes. He saw it in the way the Captain didn’t even look at Winter, keeping his gaze trained on Tony. He saw it in the way all of them gravitated to Tony.

He saw it in their hatred and distrust towards him.

Winter thought he understood. This bad feeling couldn’t be anywhere near what they must be feeling. Still, Winter wanted it to stop. He would do almost anything to make it stop. But he couldn’t, because it would hurt Tony and he couldn’t do that. It would also hurt the rest of them, which would hurt Tony only more.

Feelings really were terrible.

Watching all of them touching Tony was making him twitchy and it took Winter all of his concentration to focus on Tony and only on him.

He wasn’t hurting, they didn’t try to attack, they didn’t try to take him away and the kid… Peter even smiled at him again.

But then Tony had to go to the Black Widow. Logically, Winter knew the Captain was as dangerous as he himself was. But something in the Black Widow made Winter nervous. Was it her stare that promised pain and death? Was it her stillness? The way she moved just like Winter did?

Whatever it was, Winter didn’t trust her – and he didn’t trust her with Tony.

Stepping back had been hard. Watching him move close enough to her that she could _touch_ him had been worse.

When she wrapped her arms around Tony, Winter had almost shot her out of principle. He didn’t, because Tony smiled. It was sad and understanding. And he hugged her back.

Not even blinking, to not miss even the smallest hint that she might hurt Tony, he stared at them, ignoring the other Avengers, which wasn’t what his training demanded. He didn’t care.

Tony murmured something into her ear and she tightened her arms.

Winter was moving before Tony hissed, having anticipated it. Her hand had pressed against the wound in his shoulder.

The muzzle of his gun was pressed to her temple before he stopped right beside them.

Winter ignored the noise and movement from the other Avengers, focussing solely on the assassin hugging Tony too tightly and hurting him.

Her body had loosened her grip before going deathly still when she felt the cold metal against her skin.

Before anyone could do or say anything, Tony, of course, stopped both of them.

He reached out with his right hand and nudged the muzzle until his hand was between it and the Black Widow’s head. It wouldn’t stop the bullet. It shouldn’t stop Winter at all, but he went as still as the other assassin.

Looking at Tony, he saw the relaxed, warm smile, open and _happy_. Because he was home. Because he was here with his _real_ friends.

“It’s okay, Buttercup, she just forgot how fragile I am.” Tony’s voice was as quiet and as warm as his eyes, it was calm and promising.

The snort of the Black Widow was pure noise, no muscle moving.

“Shut it, Red. I’m going to deny it to my dying day, all right.” He pushed the gun from her head and down. “We’re safe. I promise you.”

Winter wanted to tell him that he couldn’t be sure. That Winter had seen the reports about the Avengers. That Tony hadn’t seen the looks the others had thrown at him, but he didn’t have the words.

Tony still seemed to understand. His hand left the gun and grabbed his wrist, pressing down calmly. “Nat promises the same thing you did: As long as you don’t try to hurt or kill any of us, she is not going to hurt or kill you. Right, Nat?” He prompted when the woman stayed quiet.

“Nat?”

When she moved, she looked up at Winter, her green eyes frighteningly fierce and all seeing.

“Nat, come on, he promises the same!”

The reluctance in her expression was screamingly obvious to Winter, but so was her conceding to the point. Slowly and deliberately, she let go of Tony, still standing in his space, not trying to move away.

She nodded.

Winter nodded as well.

A truce. For now.

“Does anyone need to say something about it?” Tony asked, half turning to the other people in the room, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Are we just-”

The Hawkeye started, but Tony cut him off.

“Yes, you are. It’s a long story but the short version is: Winter got me out, he kept me as safe as possible and we got back to New York and until I’m drugged, I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

“That’s my cue then.” Dr. Banner, the human side of the Hulk stepped forward and Winter tensed.

“Oh, come on, he’s just saying that because he wants to get out of-”

“ _Clint_!” Captain America growled, already turning on the archer, who held up his hands in surrender.

“Shutting up, although you _know_ I’m right.”

Dr. Banner advanced towards them, his steps slow and careful.

“Let’s get you in your bed, Tony.”

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to-”

“Tony!”

“Aren’t you glad he is back?” Hawkeye’s tone was low and teasing. But Winter saw the raw emotion behind it. He was glad Tony was back with them.

The exhale of the Captain was heavy. “Yes.”

Tony’s smile grew. Then he stumbled and Winter, the Black Widow and Dr. Banner steadied him before he could fall on his face.

Even if Winter didn’t trust any of them, he agreed that Tony needed to get maintenance and apparently the Doctor could provide it. Without further ado, he holstered his weapons, picked the smaller man up, ignored his yell to set him down and carried him to his bedroom.

He was keenly aware of all the eyes on him making sure he didn’t hurt Tony.

As if he would do that willingly.

All of the Avengers, plus the nurse and the kid, had followed them into the room and Winter ignored them in favour of placing Tony gingerly on the bed. Before stepping back, placing himself in front of the wall, eyes wandering over all of them.

“I’m too damn tired to have this conversation again, now, but Buttercup, we _will_ have that conversation again. I _know_ you remember it.”

Winter ignored that as well.

“You okay?” The Captain asked, kneeling down beside the bed, throwing one glance over his shoulder towards Winter before focusing on Tony.

“I’m fine, Steve.”

Winter growled and all eyes settled on him again. He didn’t like it. But he wouldn’t let Tony lie either.

“For fucks sake.” Tony let his eyes slip closed and exhaled. “Brucey, get this over with, I’m done. And to the rest of you, do you mind?”

“Not at all.” The Hawkeye drawled, sitting down on the bed, leaning against some pillows.

“One day, birdbrain, I’m going to kill you.”

Winter didn’t twitch. He knew Tony didn’t mean it. His voice was to warm, an almost smile on his lips and he flashed Winter a calming glance, before looking back at Hawkeye.

“Probably, but it’s not today, is it?” He reached down and patted Tony condescendingly. “Now hush, Bruce is trying to concentrate here.”

“Be happy Winter understands sarcasm.” Tony growled, ignoring the grin of the other man, or that Dr. Banner moved the Captain enough for himself and the nurse to loosen the bandage on his shoulder.

Peter moved closer too, sitting down beside Hawkeye, grabbing Tony’s right hand and fell asleep the next second. Tony’s expression when he saw it was so soft not even Hawkeye said something.

Winter’s gaze wandered back to the Black Widow standing opposite the bed. Their eyes met. Neither of them reached for a weapon.

“Tony!”

All eyes snapped to the Doctor, who sounded shocked.

“Brucey, I-”

“You need a hospital!”

“Not you too.” Tony rolled his eyes.

The rest of the people tensed in a way that worried Winter.

“Didn’t they do anything to-”

“I hate to disappoint you, big guy, but kidnappers normally don’t-”

“But they needed you-” The Captain whispered, his eyes fixed on the wound.

It didn’t mean much to Winter, but it seemed to be bad, judging by the reaction of the Avengers.

“That’s why they didn’t shoot me dead.” Tony answered, unconcerned.

“Tony...” The Captain groaned, while Hawkeye leaned forward again, patting Tony’s arm.

“It’s so good to have you back. Besides you I look downright sane.”

“Fuck you, too.”

“No, seriously, Tones, there is _no one_ on this whole planet that would have managed to get kidnapped, uncover a decades old conspiracy, of Nazis no less, and turn the fucking Winter Soldier in a work week. If you don’t have a serious case of Stockholm, that is.”

“You know I’m a genius.” Tony flashed the other man a smile, before he glanced at Winter. His smile morphed to something more calming, holding Winter’s eyes for a moment.

Winter still saw the flinch he tried to suppress when the Doctor did something to his shoulder and it was almost painful for Winter to not grab the man and stop him from touching Tony. Maintenance always hurt. But Tony needed it. He could take it. And if the Doctor even appeared to do something to Tony that wouldn’t help him, Winter would stop him.

“Tony, I need help with this. The infection-”

“Bruce-”

“No!” There was a new urgency in the Doctor’s voice that made all of them straighten. Even the kid stirred in his sleep.

“You need surgery, damn it! I’m not-”

Both Winter and the Black Widow went for their weapons when an unexpected sound disrupted the rant. When Winter realized that it was just a phone, he forced his hand to relax on the gun and let go of it.

All the while he eyed the Black Widow who did the same.

“Colonel?” Steve answered, one hand still on Tony’s knee. Where it had been since the Doctor pushed him away from Tony’s head.

“Yes. Yes, Bruce is saying- Yes, I can do that.” He took the phone from his ear, held it towards Winter and put it on speaker phone.

“Winter?” It was the voice of Colonel Rhodes. Who had told Winter to keep an eye on Tony. Winter wasn’t sure what he thought about the man, but seeing the man with Tony, Winter knew, the Colonel would die for Tony.

“He hears you.” Tony said, when Winter didn’t know how to response.

“Good. In about five minutes a woman will come to your floor. She is a doctor we trust. Do not shoot her. She knows about the situation and will help Tony, alright?”

Winter glanced at Tony. The other man nodded.

Winter nodded in response.

“He won’t shoot her.”

“Great. And you will do what she says, are we clear, Tones?”

Tony didn’t answer.

“Let me rephrase that. If you are being difficult I’m going to come over. Are you going to be difficult?” There was a tone to the Colonel’s voice Winter couldn’t place.

Tony closed his eyes for a moment, as if preparing himself, before he smiled a small smile. “I’m sure Steve is going to call you the minute that happens.”

“Captain, you heard him. Call me.”

The Colonel disconnected the call and the Captain pocketed his phone again.

“Would you help me to get some things I think Dr. Cho will need?” Dr. Banner asked the nurse who nodded business like and both left the room and, judging by the sound of the elevator, the floor.

“Are you sure you don’t-”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a house call from a doctor? Let alone someone like Helen Cho? It would be downright disrespectful to go to a hospital now, Cap.”

The smile on the Captain’s face was different to the other smiles. Somehow warmer. More intense.

“And we all know you’re all about respect, right Iron Ass?”

“You know it, Legolas.”

The elevator arrived with a ding and judging by the footsteps it was just one person.

“Hello? I’m Dr. Helen Cho and James told me to say I come in peace, although-”

“It’s okay, Helen. Come on in.” Tony called back to the woman. She entered the bedroom, her eyes wandering over everyone, before settling back on Tony, who smiled disarmingly at her.

“Helen, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I read your last paper. It-”

“What did you do this time?” Her voice was stern and no nonsense. She stepped closer and Winter had to keep himself in check to not get between them.

Tony flashed a thankful? proud? smile towards Winter, relaxing a little more. He seemed to trust her too.

“It was just a teeny tiny kidnapping.”

“He was held hostage by Hydra for five days.” The Captain supplied.

“It wasn’t five days. Two, tops.”

“And after he was on the run.”

“Just taking a slightly longer way back.”

“Aha.”

Winter was almost impressed by how unimpressed the Doctor was.

“And you thought blood poisoning was a good souvenir?” She asked, calmly.

“What?” The Captain surged forward and Winter’s hand closed around his gun again. But he didn’t draw it. Neither did the Black Widow. Although she looked even tenser then before.

“I didn’t know how else I could get you to visit me.”

Dr. Cho raised her eyebrow, looking down on Tony, asking him something in what sounded like Korean. Winter didn’t speak Korean.

Tony apparently did. He answered her in the same language.

Her expression pinched, as did that of the Black Widow.

The Doctor said something else, emphasizing something heavily.

Tony just shook his head. Once. Hard. He was still smiling, but this one was cold and hard. Rigid.

Winter didn’t know what this was about, but he knew whatever it was, Tony didn’t want it. And Winter would make sure it didn’t happen.

Dr. Cho exhaled forcefully, but nodded.

Placing her bag on the bed beside Tony, she started to unload.

The elevator chimed again and the moment the nurse and Dr. Banner stepped over the threshold, the phones of the Captain, Hawkeye and Dr. Banner sounded an alarm.

“Shit.” Hawkeye cursed, all of them reaching for their phones, as Captain Rogers phone was called again.

“Fury?” This time his voice was colder. Harder. The Captain didn’t seem to like the Director of Shield. He listened, stiffened, before answering. “Understood.”

He ended the call, his hands balled to tight fists. There was despair in his eyes when he looked at Tony, who, like everyone else (aside from the Black Widow who was still glaring at Winter and Dr. Cho and the nurse, who were preparing their utensils) was staring at him.

“Shield has a Civil War on their hands.”

“What a surprise.” Tony hissed.

And tried to sit up.

Winter jerked forward, but five pairs of hands were already on the genius, holding him down.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Captain America growled, low and threateningly enough to wake the kid… Peter, who moved forward before he was even awake, pushing closer to Tony.

“What-” He started, looking at the tense atmosphere.

“We need-”

“Hell no.” Hawkeye pushed at Tony, forcing him to lay back.

Forcing someone was bad. But right now, Winter couldn’t protest. Tony couldn’t fight like this. He wasn’t sure what blood poisoning was, but it sounded dangerous.

“Fine, whatever. Just get going.” Tony grumbled, not fighting this as much as Winter would have thought he would. That worried not only him as it seemed. The other people present looked as concerned as Winter felt.

Before any of them could address him, he turned, looking at Winter. “If you go with them you have to promise to listen to Cap, okay?”

Why would Winter go with them? He was here to protect Tony.

“No.” Both the Black Widow and Captain America hissed.

“He can help you.”

“Tony-”

“Cap.”

“I can’t…” The agony in both the Captain’s expression and his voice was like a gut punch to Winter. Especially when he saw the feeling mirrored in Tony’s expression.

“It’s agents fighting agents, Cap. You have to go.” The whisper was low and regretful. Hard.

“I just got you back.”

Winter wasn’t sure if Tony would even be able to hear those whispered words. The kid had heard them. The flinch betrayed him.

Whether or not he had heard the Captain’s words, Tony turned towards him and his expression, although pained, was set like the one he had used on Winter before. When he had told Winter that he had hurt him.

Winter almost winced alongside the Captain.

“Hydra has to be stopped, Steve, you know that better than almost anyone.” His gaze met Winter’s for a heartbeat, before it settled back on the other man. “Say the word and I’ll come with you, but the Avengers have to leave right fucking now.”

A chill went down Winter’s spine. No. No, he couldn’t let him. Both doctors had been worried. He needed maintenance. He couldn’t-

His hand was on the wall, knocking three times, hard, before he even registered it.

All eyes were on him again, but he didn’t care. His eyes bore into Tony’s. He couldn’t. He needed to stay here. Winter would go. He would go with the Avengers and do what the Captain ordered if Tony stayed here.

He didn’t want to leave Tony behind. But if that was what it took to get him maintenance? To keep him safe, he would do it. The Colonel had told him that he and the kid had to keep Tony safe. He would make sure the kid stayed back. He was enhanced and clearly willing to protect Tony.

And Winter would be back as soon as possible.

Tony had fell silent as soon as Winter had started knocking, meeting his gaze in a challenge and frustration.

This time, Winter won the staring match.

Tony deflated some. Looking back at the Captain he forced a smile. “Winter is going to help you. He is going to listen to you. He is on our side, Steve. And while you all go out and kick ass, I’ll be here. Waiting like a fucking damsel in distress while a small spider holds me captive, okay?”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t leave the floor!” The kid sounded serious, leaning slightly forward, as if he wanted to lay down on the genius, to make sure he really didn’t leave.

“Tony-” The Captain started again, defeat obvious in his voice.

“Are you sure?” The Black Widow asked, moving forward and meeting Tony’s eyes.

“Absolutely.” There was no room for any doubt in his voice.

“Okay.” The Black Widow looked up at Winter, her eyes sharp. “If Tony should be wrong about you, I will kill you.”

“Nat!”

Winter nodded. That was acceptable. If Tony was wrong about him, it would be best to take him out of commission.

“Cap.” She looked down at the still kneeling Captain America. For a moment Winter thought he would refuse. That he would order them to stand down.

“If anything happens, you call us, alright Peter?” He pushed himself up, looking at the kid.

“Yes, Captain Rogers!”

“Let’s go.” His hand lingered on Tony for a moment longer, before he turned and left.

Winter caught Tony’s eyes, before he nodded.

“Not shooting anyone that you don’t have to, alright, Buttercup?”

He nodded again.

The Hawkeye gestures for Winter to follow Dr. Banner, the Black Widow and Captain America out of the bedroom.

Winter gritted his teeth behind the mask.

And went with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm repetitive, I know, but stay safe, love all of you brilliant readers and thanks for all of your support. It really means the world to me!


	23. Tony: Like Father Like Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the Avengers are out to fight Hydra, Tony has his own mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> After a week that was from someplace worse than hell, I'm back. Keep your fingers crossed this is as worst as it will get ;)
> 
> Enjoy!

Tony felt like crying. Not that he would (right now), although if he did, he thought he had excellent reasons for it.

If he would cry – which he wouldn’t – it wouldn’t be because he had been kidnapped (again), or shot (again) or had been beaten (again) or worked with his parents’ killer (that was a new one at least). It wouldn’t be because of any of the brilliant reasons he just listed.

No, it would be because he had hurt Steve.

How could he have said all that to him? How could he have put all that on Steve? How could he have been so cruel! Of course, he knew how, because he was useless and weak and Hydra had to be stopped. What a fucking hero he was.

(And if he was honest he had been as harsh because he desperately wanted Steve to stay. He didn’t want him to leave. He didn’t want to be alone. Yes, he was with Peter (and May and Helen) but he was weak and pathetic and he wanted Steve and he wanted his Honeybear and… It was good he didn’t even acknowledge that in his brain.)

Worse still, he had sent Winter with them. What if he got triggered? What if Hydra got to him? What if they took him? Would the others protect him? Would Nat think he betrayed them or brainwashed Tony or… what if she killed him? What if he killed one of them?

Thankfully – or terribly because he deserved to suffer – Helen gave him a fast working sedative and knocked him out. He would wake up shortly after the surgery. She had promised. And she would keep that promise. She knew better than to cross Tony. Or Rhodey. Or Pepper.

She had been the only Doctor Tony had consulted after Afghanistan. The only one he would let work on him if he could help it.

When he woke up, the world was pleasantly unreal. He had warned Helen about all the times he had been drugged over the past few days, not knowing what he had been dozed with but being sure it would have negative influence on him. Because almost everything had.

He blinked into the light, recognizing his ceiling, and a moment later Helen’s face.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like a million bucks.” His voice was rough, the words a little slurred, but that was to be expected.

“That terrible, huh?” She smiled and Tony couldn’t help himself, he smiled back.

“A million isn’t that bad.”

Helen raised an eyebrow, before her expression became serious again.

“I got the bullet out. I don’t have to tell you what I think about working under conditions like these-”

“I know, I know.”

“-I’m _only_ doing this because-”

“I know, Helen.”

“-the last time I-”

“Helen.”

She stopped, glaring down at Tony.

“I know. Thank you.”

She glared some more, before she relaxed. She had been there when he had a major flash back with a panic attack that had rendered him immobile for almost two days. She knew why Tony couldn’t go to a hospital room after a kidnapping. The Avengers had picked up on his hatred of hospitals and were keeping close whenever he had to be in one, but after a kidnapping? No. He couldn’t do it.

“As I said, I got the bullet out, I had to cut some of the old bullet wound because of the infection.” Her expression pinched. “You’re going to take a cocktail of antibiotics and pain medication for a while.”

Tony had guessed as much.

“If you drink enough I’m not going to be forced to hook you up to a-”

“Give me something and I’ll drink it right now.”

“Water or herbal tea only.”

“What? That’s torture!”

“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” Her voice softened some, her gaze flickering over Tony’s body, which was thankfully hidden under a blanket.

“It wasn’t too bad.” Tony said, quietly.

Helen cleared her throat, turning around to grab a glass of water. Tony took a few sips and she placed it back on the bedside table before she looked back into Tony’s eyes. “Just because you had _worse_ doesn’t mean it wasn’t bad.”

Tony thought about shrugging but decided against it. The pain in his shoulder was numb, but in a way, he knew would become unpleasant if he moved it to much. And right now, he didn’t have to.

“Is your… friend hurt as well?”

Tony hesitated at that question. Helen most likely asked after physical injuries and Tony was almost certain Winter wasn’t physically hurt. But yes, he was hurt. And Tony wanted to have Helen on Winter’s doctors list, because she was the best there was. And trustworthy.

“No. I’ll call you.”

Helen raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

Avoiding her piercing gaze, Tony looked to his other side. Something cold slithered in his stomach.

“Where is Peter?”

“His aunt took him to his room. They’ll be back in a bit.”

Tony relaxed. Okay, yeah, that was a good idea. Peter needed sleep and probably something to eat.

“Sleep, Tony. You’re safe now.” It was the exact same thing she had told him before, back when-

Smiling up at her, Tony hoped she wouldn’t see through his lie.

“Will do, Doc. Are you staying?”

“I have a project in D.C. right now, so I’m going to be back tomorrow. Try not to need me before then, okay?”

“Of course not.”

She didn’t believe him but left anyway. That was another thing Tony liked about Helen. She hadn’t ordered him to stay in bed because she knew he knew he should. She also knew he wouldn’t. At least not for longer than absolutely necessary.

She hadn’t given him any pills, nor had she explained anything, which meant May would have them – and she would make certain he would take them. As she would have Peter with her – an unfair advantage that shouldn’t be allowed – he would take them. Not that he would refuse to take the antibiotics (even if some of them made him tired and he had too much to do to be tired right now).

Closing his eyes to prepare his battered body – which had had worse and should stop acting like it couldn’t take it – to move, he exhaled.

He was back home. It had only been five days. It was barely in the top ten of his kidnappings, really. The only thing securing its place to be even mentioned was Winter and what Tony had- He stopped himself right there.

Not now. Not here. Not without… just not now.

He had known the Avengers would look for him. Hell, _Natasha_ had told him they loved him. And he had believed them. So, it shouldn’t be a surprise that they all had been relieved to see him.

It still was. How could it not be when Steve had hugged him like he would never let him go again? Tony had indulged in that fantasy. Had enjoyed the embrace, the feeling of warmth, steady arms that would catch him and his illogical hope that Steve could like him too… It was stupid, but Tony hadn’t been able to stop himself from latching on to him. From hugging him closer, even when it had hurt. He hadn’t cared. Not even a little bit.

Clint and Bruce had been glad too, both men hugging him and holding him close. He had felt their muscles relax even though Winter had stood right beside them.

The most surprising one was Nat. Not because she had hugged him, no, because she had lost control just for a second. She trusted him enough to let Winter go with them. Tony had felt her shuddering in his arms and had held her a little closer. She had been afraid, even then and Tony didn’t know _why_. It couldn’t just be the reputation of the Winter Soldier. It couldn’t be just that Tony had been kidnapped. Something had happened while he had been otherwise occupied and it had shaken Nat like almost nothing could.

He would try to find out what to be able to help her. Until then he would have to keep watch. To be there.

But not now.

Tony opened his eyes, starring up at his ceiling and exhaled slowly, before he pushed himself upright. His body protested, exhaustion and drugs doing their utmost to keep him on the bed. As if Tony would let that happen while he didn’t know what had happened to Jarvis.

There was a 63% chance that Jarvis had been able to retreat to his servers and shut himself down before anything could happen to him. That left 37% open for everything else. As long as he didn’t know what bring_the_world_down_with_sparks had tried to do and had been able to do, he had no idea what could have happened to Jay.

If he had retreated to his servers and shut himself off, there was still a possibility that he had taken something with him. Jarvis kept separated updates of himself, that he renewed every other month, on different servers, well hidden in a location no one but Rhodey knew about. Tony didn’t think bring_the_world_down_with_sparks was good enough to get to those servers. No one was. No one could be. But what if… what if she was? What if she had-

Forcing his body to comply, Tony moved towards the edge of the bed, putting his bare feet on the floor. It was cold, and from experience Tony knew, it would be unforgiving if he fell on it.

Chancing it, he pushed himself up, one hand on the bed to keep himself balanced. The hiss that escaped his lips was harsh and frustrated. There were black spots dancing in front of his eyes. A sure sign this was going to suck from start to finish.

He had taken one step closer to his dresser – he needed a hoody, preferably two, to compensate for the chill in the air – when his bedroom door opened and Peter’s sleep tousled head appeared.

“Mr. Stark!” A second later Peter was beside him, his warm hands grapping Tony’s right arm to support him.

“What are you doing? Do you need-”

“I’m fine kid, I just need a hoody.”

Peter glanced at him suspiciously for a second, before pushing him back to the bed. “Any particular one you want?”

Tony hesitated for a second before deflating a little. “The green MIT one with the zipper.” It had been Rhodey’s back in the day. He had stolen it in their last week.

Peter didn’t comment, just went to retrieve the hoody and helped Tony to put it on.

“You should lie down and-”

“Peter.”

The kid stiffened, his eyes worried and almost afraid. Tony wanted to kick himself. First, he had hurt Steve – and before that, he had freaked all of them out – and now he was hurting his kid. Why couldn’t he just stop?

“I need to get to Jarvis.”

Understanding flickered in Peter’s eyes. That was one of the reasons Tony loved him the way he did. Peter knew Jarvis was more than a program. He talked with him like he was another person. Hell, he had called him _Mr. Jarvis_ for almost two months until he had lost a bet against Tony and was forced to call him Jarvis. And for that he had apologized to Jarvis at least six times that Tony knew about.

“I don’t-” Peter’s voice was tight and anxious. And Tony pushed on, even if he hated himself for it.

“He has been down for too long, Petey. I need to find out what happened to him.”

“You need to rest.” It was more of a token protest, as the kid’s voice was uncertain.

“I can’t before I know what they have done to him.” It wasn’t manipulation when his voice wavered. He would never do that to Peter, would never manipulate him like that, even if others would think that. But aside from the fact that focussing on Jarvis meant he couldn’t think about other things, Jarvis was his kid. He had programmed him. He had been there when he took his first leaps of logic. He had helped him understand humans and their illogical emotions – or as much as he could. And Jarvis had taken it and evolved. By now, he was better with them than Tony (not that big of an achievement, granted – but he could also give psychologists a run for their money. And by that he meant good ones).

Tony knew how much Jarvis had suffered when he had been taken by the Ten Rings. He had, of course, seen the video after Pepper had gotten it. And Jarvis had been _furious_. As furious as he had been when Obi – Stane. He was Stane – had ripped Tony’s heart out after disabling Jarvis with a jammer.

They had remedied that particularly flaw in Jarvis set up and Jarvis had stalked all of Tony’s contacts to a degree even Tony was uncomfortable with – and Tony hadn’t even known that was possible!

Jarvis had told him he was a good man and believed in him when he was at his lowest, just some rich guy scum too stupid and entitled to see that he ruined the world. He had been there when Tony decided to change. To protect the world instead of destroying it.

Jarvis hadn’t been happy with his decision to let the Avengers move in. Partly because, in the beginning, he had thought he would have to hide just how advanced he was from them. Another reason was, of course, that he couldn’t stalk them as thoroughly as he would have liked. Steve came from a time that Jarvis couldn’t reach and both Natasha and Clint had been raised off the grit (and what Jarvis had found about their childhoods and what happened afterwards didn’t endear them to him). Bruce was a little easier to stalk but not by much – and Jarvis hadn’t been happy that Tony invited the Hulk to live with them.

He hadn’t said so, of course, but Tony knew his youngest son like almost no one else on this planet (aside from Rhodey). He had been afraid of what those people could do to Tony.

All that came down to one single reason Tony was terrified what might have happened to Jarvis. If he had seen a possibility to hack them back, to find something out about them to get to Tony, he would have. Tony feared that Jarvis hadn’t protected himself as good as he should have in the hopes to find his creator. Like father like son.

Tony shied away from that thought, burring it deep before he could react to it.

He looked up at another one of his kids. This one flesh and blood and a good heart so big he carried the whole world on his shoulders at an age when Tony had mostly been drunk or drugged or both.

“I need to go to him.”

Peter’s shoulders sacked and he nodded. Because Peter understood.

“But you have to promise to not do anything that could hurt you! Or I’m going to call Captain Rogers! And Colonel Rhodes! I mean it!” Peter glared at him, worry still prominent in his eyes.

Tony couldn’t help himself, he smiled at what looked like a slightly ruffled puppy trying to growl for the first time. It didn’t matter that he was Spider Man or that he was as strong as Steve.

“You would betray me like that?”

“Without even hesitating.”

Tony bit back on the laugh. That wouldn’t go over well, better to not try it at all. “Good to know, Spiderling. So, where is your aunt?”

“Sleeping in my room. She hasn’t been sleeping well.” There was an undertone in his voice that Tony would have to address. Just not now.

“Okay, then let’s run as long as the coast is clear.”

“I don’t think you can run.”

Tony looked up at his kid. “Seriously? I was just operated on and you-”

“If you feel that bad Mr. Stark-”

“Nice try kid, get going.”

Tony wouldn’t admit it but there was no way he would have made it to his workshop without Peter. He had been leaning on the kid from the first step. In the elevator, Peter placed Tony’s right arm over his shoulder and grabbed around his waist to keep him upright.

But he didn’t say anything. Just held onto Tony and helped him along.

Tony really didn’t deserve the kid.

It took them almost fifteen minutes to enter the workshop which was both a testimony to Tony’s brilliance, because everyone else would have needed at least hours to get through – whether they tried the electronic way or the blunt force one – (because Tony’s lab was built with the same materials as the Hulk cage) and a sign how out of it he was.

Peter, unsurprisingly, was very helpful, not only in knowing exactly where Tony needed to go next, he helped short-circuit the right systems to trigger Tony’s plan-z-for-when-everything-else-fails-protocol.

Stepping inside his workshop (or being dragged in by his protégé – but who was nit-picking here?) should feel like coming home. This was his safe haven. This was the place were Tony felt safest (aside from Rhodey and Steve, but again, who was nit-picking?), where he could stay days on end, weeks, really – if he wasn’t dragged out kicking and screaming which might have happened a few times – to invent and build and forget the world.

Without Jarvis it was cold and unfamiliar, scary almost. Dummy didn’t come around the corner, yapping at him like a demented puppy. At least the safety protocols had worked and Jarvis had shut him off, too. So that he wouldn’t be alone.

“What do you need me to do?” Peter looked at him with big open eyes, ready to do what Tony asked of him. That trust frightened him. It gave him too much power over the kid who was too good and kind to see… to understand.

“I suppose you’re not going to make me coffee?”

“You want me to call Captain Rogers, is that it?”

Yes. That was what Tony wanted. He wanted both Rhodey and Steve here, so that Steve could hold him while he told Rhodey how to get to Jarvis. Tony was sure that his Honeybear would have tried to get Jarvis back but as good as he was – and he was damn good – he wasn’t Tony. And Jarvis and he hadn’t keyed Rhodey in yet. They would have to do this as soon as this was done and over with.

“You’re a terrible person, kid. Just terrible.” Tony ruffled Peter’s hair while saying it, not hiding the emotions in his eyes – he wasn’t even sure he could have. He was almost stripped raw, almost at the end of his rope. Almost on his breaking point.

“Just get me in front of the screen.”

Peter placed him on his favourite chair and placed his own right beside Tony’s. Glancing at his kid, who looked tired enough to fall asleep while sitting beside him, smiled. He was in good hands.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed, Sir?”

Tony could have cried. It had taken him the better part of four hours to get to this point. (Peter had been asleep most of that time, his head pillowed on his arm, his shoulder touching Tony’s side.)

If he had been thinking clearly, he would have been able to do it in an hour and a half, but with his reduced thinking power he was lucky that he hadn’t fucked up. While digging his way through all the information he saw the work of bring_the_world_down_with_sparks and was hating the elegance of her work. If she hadn’t been working for Hydra and attacked his baby boy, he might have been even inclined to offer her a job, she was that good.

Jarvis had waited too long and she had been able to plant something, but Jarvis had frozen it before it could harm him. The work was as beautiful as it was destructive and Tony wished he could appreciate it for the spark of genius that it was. Instead it filled him with a rage that wouldn’t stop until he knew she would never be able to be a threat to Jarvis ever again. He would make sure of that. One way or the other.

“Shouldn’t you be grateful that I got your ass back online?”

“It certainly could have waited another day, Sir. Judging by your vitals and the notes of Dr. Cho I just accessed-”

“Ignore that for now, Jay. Run a thorough check for me, find out whether or not everything is back the way it’s supposed to be and that I didn’t miss something.”

There was no snappy comeback this time. Jarvis knew what it meant if Tony asked for him to double check his work in that tone. He wouldn’t budge. He wouldn’t let himself be persuaded. Jarvis had to check, had to make sure that Tony had gotten everything. That there was absolutely no way that something could harm Jay.

“Everything is as it should be, Sir. Aside from you and Mr. Parker being down here instead of a bed, of course.”

Tony’s exhale was harsh and painful. He let his body slump, ignoring his screaming everything in favour of accepting that Jarvis was fine. He was fine. _He was fine_.

“Are you okay, Jay?” It was barely a whisper but Jarvis would pick it up. It was a stupid question but Tony had to ask it anyway. He had to know. It didn’t matter that his code was intact, what happened would leave scars on Jay as it would leave scars on Tony and he just had to know… that he really would be okay. That he would-

“As you are back, there is no reason for me that I will not be okay, Sir.” His tone was warm, careful and it had taken the AI too long to answer.

“Will you be okay, Sir?”

Tony didn’t answer either for a long time.

“Yes. Of course, Jay.” He didn’t even sound convincing to his own ears.

“What can I do, Sir?” There was a hint of desperation in Jay’s voice and Tony pressed his eyes closed. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to make Jarvis feel guilty. It hadn’t been his fault. It was Hydra’s fault, Tony’s fault, but not Jarvis’.

“Short version: Hydra has spies in Shield, the Avengers are in the field trying to help. We don’t know all the spies but if you go on Rhodey’s and my private-”

“Found it.”

“Good. Yeah. The… the Winter Soldier is one of ours now, Jay, until he… He is one of ours. We clear?”

The thirteen seconds of silence could have been years.

“Sir-”

“He is one of ours, Jay. You can call him Winter or Buttercup.”

“Sir-”

“You have to keep an eye out for them. Help them as much as you can. The others have to take care of Winter. He _cannot_ be taken by Hydra, are we clear?”

“…crystal, Sir.”

“Are you in the comms?”

“Of course.”

“Keep an eye out for them Jay, keep them save and if you need to take the Iron Army out, do it.” Tony felt his consciousness slip. While working he had barely felt the pain, had barely acknowledged how his progress slowed, how the easiest of tasks became complicated to him. Now, his words were slurred. His fingers were already numb on the keyboard.

“Sir, your vitals are-”

“Peter?” Tony mumbled, trying to reach for the younger man, losing his balance and slumping against him.

Peter was awake the next second, his arms already reaching around Tony to steady him.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Don… worry… jus…”

“Oh god, Mr. Stark!” The strong arms around him tightened.

“Mr. Parker, it would be advisable to carry Mr. Stark to his bed. I have already woken Mrs. Parker.”

“…no…”

The only reason Tony knew Peter had followed Jarvis instruction, was that he suddenly saw the world from another angle. He didn’t feel the arms around him. He didn’t hear Peter, even if he was sure that the kid would be talking. Most likely to Tony, telling him to stay awake. Threatening him that he would tell on him.

He would talk to Jarvis, greet him and ask for advice.

But Tony didn’t hear any of it. He didn’t even see anything anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always: Thanks for reading, your comments mean the world to me and please stay safe!


	24. Steve: What if?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers join the fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

Steve had a bad feeling. And it was not because he was fighting Shield agents who really were Hydra agents which basically meant everything he had done back in the War, all the people he had lost, had been for nothing. It wasn’t because he and his team were exhausted and running on fumes. It wasn’t even because they worked with Tony’s kidnapper, had given him, the fucking Winter Soldier, more weapons and an ear piece.

It was because he had left Tony.

Tony, of course, had been right. Steve couldn’t do anything for him right now. He was in capable hands and even if it killed Steve to know it was only Peter, May and Dr. Cho, he had a job to do. Tony, who had looked worse and worse by the minute, who had held himself and anyone else together, who had been strong for all of them, even his fucking kidnapper for Christ’s sake, had offered to go.

As if Steve would let him. As if any of them would have let him. But that was exactly the reason why his stomach was in a tight knot. Why his lungs refused to work properly and why he felt more fear than rage while fighting against an enemy that should have died back in the ‘40s.

If they didn’t drug or restrain him in any way, Tony would find a way out of that bed to help them. Peter, as much as Steve liked him, and he really was impressed by Tony’s kid, would fold like a wet paper towel under Tony’s brown eyes. If it was Steve there, he would probably too. But then he would be there. He would be able to help the genius. To protect him. To touch him and _know_ that he was there. That he was safe.

It almost _hurt_ to leave him. Steve had no right to demand to stay, to beg Tony to reconsider, but he had desperately wanted to.

He couldn’t do that to Tony, though. He would think it was his fault. That Steve or the Avengers thought him to be weak, even if he was the strongest person Steve had ever met.

Natasha’s expression had been the tipping point for Steve. She would have killed him then and there if he had refused to go. Not that he would have. It was his duty. It was their job. And he wanted to protect the world. Of course, he wanted to. He also wanted to stop Hydra once and for all.

But he _needed_ to be with Tony. To know that he was resting. That he was safe. He wanted to understand what had happened. Even if he dreaded to hear what they had done to him. But he needed to know why Tony had made the Winter Soldier one of his. Whether it was Stockholm syndrome, brainwashing or another reason.

He wanted to understand their dynamic. Why Tony had stopped dead when the assassin had knocked against the wall. Was it conditioning? Had it been a threat? Tony hadn’t reacted with fear, it had looked more like resignation but maybe he had been too exhausted, too out of it to react properly.

Wouldn’t he have known that they would have protected him from the Winter Soldier? He would know that. He must know that.

So, what was it? Why would he work with someone who had not only been employed by _Hydra_ but had kidnapped him? Who had _hurt_ him?

“Cap!”

He stepped to the side, hiding behind a wall when the machine gun fire hit the wall he had been standing in front of just a heartbeat earlier.

Focus. He needed to focus. To concentrate. Tony wouldn’t be happy if they got hurt. Hell, he would probably find a way to blame himself! And that included the Winter Soldier, because they didn’t know what had happened yet (and how to possibly counteracted it, or got him help, or-)

He waited until the agents stepped around the corner and slammed his shield forward, knocking him down with an audible crunch of bone. Yes, Steve disliked killing and he wouldn’t go out of his way to kill any of them, but right now, there were other things on his mind.

“Status.”

“Covering your ass, because apparently your head is still-”

“Found three wounded Shield agents. They aren’t on the list.”

“GROAAAAR”

“Hulk!” There were background noises from the Widow’s mic.

“Winter Soldier?”

No answer. Steve hadn’t thought he would get one. He hadn’t once in the last 6 hours. He had glared at them, catalogued each and every of their movements. Taken the weapons he had been handed, nodded to the threats all of them muttered, accepted the order to keep away from the Hulk if he wanted to live and put the ear piece in.

“Hawkeye?”

“Lost visual on him when I was covering your love-sick ass.”

Steve would have groaned if he hadn’t been busy covering himself with his shield when another bout of shooting started, followed by screams.

“Found him.”

Steve didn’t answer. That mayhem was either the Hulk, who would be louder, Thor who was still off world, Iron Man, who better not be out there or the Winter Soldier. So yeah. Hawkeye _found him_.

“Go after him.”

“As in-”

“Cover him.”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

Clint grumbled something that Steve didn’t even try to make out. He was too high strung, too desperate, too exhausted and too done with all of this – as were all of them. But they were the Avengers for god’s sake. What would Tony say if they abandoned the Shield agents who actually were Shield agents?

What would his old comrades and friends say if he gave Hydra a chance to win because- Well, with them he would have had another talk entirely after that and this really wasn’t the time to have a gay panic over what his long dead friends would say if they knew Steve Rogers wanted to sit beside his male love, that he hadn’t even told yet that he was exactly that, or that he was gay for that matter, and refused to fight Hydra.

They would have thought he was an imposter or nuts. Or worse.

The sound of fabric moving was the only reason Steve was able to avoid the heat shot, as he let himself fall to the ground. He jumped up, but his attacker was already dead on the ground. He glanced up to see a shadow disappear from the corner of his yes.

The Winter Soldier hadn’t given them one reason so far to mistrust him. And Steve knew all of them were waiting for him to betray them. He did what he was told as far as Steve could tell, wounded the agents if he could, made sure none of them came to harm and didn’t run.

There were those terrible dark thoughts that this was all a ruse. That he had done _something_ to Tony and that he was… under his control. But it had been _his_ Tony. Their genius. Steve was certain about it. Absolutely. Hydra might be back, the world might face a hostile takeover, but the person back at the Tower, smiling at him, hugging him, had been Tony.

And even if an imposter had been able to fool Steve (unlikely) he wouldn’t have been able to also fool all of the Avengers, Peter, Colonel Rhodes and Pepper Potts. There was just no way.

But what if?

As they had been accompanied by the possible reason for all what had happened to Tony, they hadn’t been able to talk about any of it. As he was as attentive as the Black Widow herself, there had been no way for them to communicate even silently. Even if they had had time.

As soon as they had boarded the Quinjet they had started to coordinate with Fury, the police, when they came the military and other heroes. It had been a strategic disaster but by now they were almost organized. That was the reason the Avengers had went ahead in one of the smaller Shield offices to clear it before the rest of them followed. To give Hulk some room to work.

More shots were fired and Steve heard glass crack and crash, shouts and screams. Watching the ghost assassin in action, it was glaringly obvious that he was also enhanced.

Once again, Steve stopped his thought process at that point.

Something hit his shield and Steve, once again, forced himself to focus on the fight he was in right now. It wasn’t the hardest fight he had ever been in, but they were fighting an evil organisation trying to rule the world. And he wasn’t even able to give them half a thought.

The last status update from Colonel Rhodes, Professor X, Luca and the rest of their allies had been almost an hour ago. Everywhere Hydra was fought, it was glaringly obvious that they hadn’t been ready to act just yet. That they were able to be still fighting showed how good prepared they already had been. And that, if it had worked the way they had wanted to, there would have been a good chance they would have started a third world war. Because Steve refused to believe that they could have won. Even if they would have had Tony.

Without backup it took Steve almost twenty more minutes to clean the last rooms. He found two bodies, presumably Shield agents, one wounded who would hopefully survive and incapacitated four attackers and killed one who wouldn’t back down, spouting the same bullshit he had heard almost eighty years ago.

“Clear.”

“Clear.” Hawkeye answered, his voice terse and on edge.

“What-”

“The Hulk and the Black Widow seem to have caused some disarray on the east side of the Shield buildings. I’m sure they would appreciate your assistance, Captain.”

Steve almost fell flat on his face.

“Jarvis?” He heard is own question echoed by Hawkeye, who sounded relieved, and the Black Widow, whose suspicion was loud and clear.

“I’m at your disposal, Captain.”

The smile that had been forming on his lips died almost in the same instant. There was only one person who would have been able to bring Jarvis back. Only one person who would ask Jarvis to assist the Avengers the same second that he was back online.

One person, Steve would _shackle to the damn bed_ if he had hurt himself.

“Tony?”

“…Sir is being treated as we speak.”

Steve’s breath hitched.

“What has the fucking idiot-”

A growl, low and guttural, almost rivalling the Hulk’s stopped Hawkeye.

“Hey, Soldier, what are you- Come back here!”

“Hawkeye?” Steve was already running. He wasn’t sure where to, because he couldn’t run back to the Tower. Well, he could, it wouldn’t even take him that much time and- But he wouldn’t. According to Jarvis Black Widow and Hulk needed help and he couldn’t-

“The Winter Soldier just took off.” Hawkeye’s voice was hard and cutting.

“Black Widow, status!” Steve was running towards the east side, following the path of destruction.

“Follow him!” Black Widow snapped, panting harshly.

“What is-”

“We’ll be fine! Follow him, Steve. NOW!”

Steve almost crashed into a wall as he tried to turn on the spot. Natasha’s fear was obvious in the fact that she used his name, that she screamed the last part – and that Steve could actually hear the fear in her voice.

“Hawkeye!”

“I’m already on my way, Cap!”

“Nat, what-”

“I’ve got Widow’s back, Cap. Go!” Hawkeye hissed into his mic, obviously the only Avenger who was still trying to actually be that Avenger and do his job.

Steve was torn. He wanted nothing more than to run back to the Tower, especially now that something happened to him. Most likely Tony himself. Still, the Winter Soldier had taken off, probably to get back to the Tower to do… what? Make sure Tony stayed under his control? To make sure he was okay?

“We have this, Cap, go!”

The urgency in Natasha’s voice was what got Steve moving. He didn’t think about what he could do, aside from _get back to Tony_. There was no time to get back to the Quinjet, which he still hadn’t learned to fly anyway, no time to find a car or-

He hid the street running. Everything around him seemed to be a blur. He had to be faster than the Winter Soldier. What if he would hurt Peter? What if he hurt Tony? What if he got to Jarvis? What if he took Tony again?

“Jarvis!” He hissed, pushing his body to run faster.

“Sir is in his bedroom. Mrs. Parker thinks he exhausted himself.”

Steve didn’t believe that was all, but didn’t call Jarvis out on his evasion. He didn’t have the air to spare.

“Winter Soldier?”

“…I’ve lost Mr. Winter.”

“Don’t…” Steve jumped over a car he hadn’t seen, losing his footing and crashing to the ground. He didn’t feel the burn, didn’t even recognize anything beyond the way he could run. And he did.

“Don’t let him in!” It was a breathless gasp, while Steve stormed around a corner, using the street lamp to change directions without slowing down. He felt his hand snap. He didn’t care.

“Sir has ordered me to-”

“No!”

The silence was deafening over the honking all around him. Over the screams he could hear.

“Sir’s orders are unmistakable, Captain. I’m sorry.”

“He could be control-” his breath hitched, either because his hip was clipped by a car or because his panic was spiking even higher.

“Sir’s behaviour falls in his usual parameters. Nothing indicates that any of the protocols regarding him not being himself, being controlled, forced or brainwashed should be activated.”

Steve wanted to scream. Not only because Jarvis obviously couldn’t or wouldn’t help him, which could be because he was compromised himself, a possibility Steve couldn’t rule out yet, but because Tony had protocols for all those scenarios.

“He kidnapped him! He-” Steve had to jump over another car, rolling himself up on the street, barely registering that his right hand couldn’t support his weight.

“I’m aware, Captain.” Now, there was real heat in Jarvis’ voice. “I can’t circumvent a direct order by Sir. As long as Mr. Winter doesn’t pose an immediate threat my metaphorical hands are tied.”

Steve wasn’t sure if he heard his own desperation reflected in the AI’s voice or if he projected it. Because he felt it. If Jarvis couldn’t stop him, if he was compromised, Steve didn’t know what he would be able to do to protect Tony. And Peter.

What if Tony would fight him too? What if he-

Shooting around another corner, Steve had never been happier to see Avenger’s Tower. Not even this morning.

“Mr. Winter just entered the Tower.”

“Delay him!”

“He is in the stairwell.”

“Warn Peter!”

“Mr. Parker is already informed.” That was judgment, Steve was sure.

What good would it do, though? Peter seemed to trust the Winter Soldier, seemed to trust Tony’s judgment about him. What would he be able to do if the assassin decided to kill him? To take Tony again.

“Elevator or stairs?” Steve gasped, increasing his speed for the final sprint, all the while ignoring that he offered a possibly compromised AI to step into a metal box controlled by him.

“Mr. Winter just entered Sir’s floor. The elevator is waiting for you. Slow down, Captain.”

Steve saw one of the security guards, Jerry, holding the door open and forced himself to slow. He ignored the expression of panic on the man’s face, jumping over the obstacles in the still mostly destroyed entry floor, and slamming into the elevator. His shield left a dent in the side when he turned.

The doors were already closing. His stomach, filled with dread and cold fear was pressed even lower, as were his knees, when the elevator sped upwards.

Pressing his eyes closed for a heartbeat, he prayed that Tony would be alright. That he wouldn’t-

The cabin jerked to a stop and Steve had to steady himself with a hand on the railing as the doors opened and he pushed himself out.

“-alright, Mr. Winter.” Peter sounded stressed.

Throwing himself forward Steve burst through the doors into Tony’s bedroom.

The first thing he saw was Tony, his face even paler than before, lines of stress and pain even visible in his sleep or unconsciousness. He was hooked up to most likely pain medication and his body was cushioned by pillows.

The second thing he saw was the gun pointed at his face, held by the Winter Soldier who had placed himself between the bed and Steve.

“Captain Ro-”

“What happened?” Steve interrupted the kid, his voice hard and cold, keeping his focus on the gun even if he wanted to look back to the bed.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the boy flinch. _No_!

“Mr. Stark wanted to fix Jarvis and I told him he should-”

“Right now, Peter. What did _he_ do?”

He allowed himself to glance to the kid, to see his surprise.

“I… Mr. Winter came in, looking like you, actually better, I think you broke your hand and is that blood-”

“Peter!”

“Nothing, I swear! He just stared and I told him Mr. Stark will be fine.” There was guilt in his voice, but it wasn’t a lie. Couldn’t be a lie.

“What is going on?”

Steve flinched hard, but refrained from moving as the Winter Soldier seemed jumpy already. A second later he realized the voice belonged to May Parker.

“What happened to you, Captain?”

Steve didn’t answer.

May stepped into Steve’s field of view. There was suspicion on her expression as she looked Steve and the Winter Soldier up and down before checking over her nephew and Tony to make sure they were safe.

“Well?”

“Car accident.” It was truthful enough and not Steve’s problem right now.

May didn’t say anything to that.

“In that case, I should probably treat you.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest, but May was faster.

“Sit down in that chair over there, I’ll be back shortly.” She let her eyes wander to the Winter Soldier and hesitated. “You can put the gun down. Steve is not here to hurt Tony.” With that she left the room.

“Mr. Winter?”

The Winter Soldier moved his head the fraction of an inch, but Peter seemed to accept it as an answer.

“Captain Rogers wouldn’t hurt Mr. Stark. I promise.”

Staring him down for a minute longer, the Winter Soldier lowered his gun, not putting it away, before he took a step back. Hidden behind the mask it was hard to read his expression, but he looked like he did it against his better judgment.

He took another step back, and another, until he stood with his back against the wall, having the perfect view over the room.

Steve took a calming breath, keeping an eye out for the assassin he walked towards the bed slowly.

“Jarvis?” He asked, forcing his voice to be low and calm. By now his breathing had returned to normal. His heartbeat was still too hard and too fast.

“Sir-”

The Winter Soldier jumped forward, gun at the ready and almost threw himself over Tony. Or at least it looked like it to Steve.

“No, Mr. Winter, it’s just Jarvis. He would never hurt Tony!” Peter had raised his hands calmingly and Steve wanted to reach out, to drag the kid out of the line of fire.

The assassin kept glaring at the corner of the room with the camera and speaker, menacingly.

“I assure you Mr. Winter, that I would _never_ harm Sir.” There was judgment in the AI’s voice and a subtle threat as well.

If the stiffening of the Winter Soldier was anything to go by, he heard that threat too.

“Mr. Stark has ordered me to take care of you. I will do so, of course, but be warned, if you hurt Sir, I will take action.”

Steve had known he wouldn’t want Jarvis as his enemy. The fierce protectiveness in his voice wasn’t enough to counter the venom dripping from his words.

The Winter Soldier kept glaring up at the corner, slowly nodding once.

“Jay…”

All of their heads whipped around and Steve didn’t even realize that he had stepped closer, when he felt cold steal press against his temple.

“Winter, no.” Tony’s voice was rough and weak, his eyes glazed over by exhaustion and drugs, but it didn’t hinder his glare.

“…friends, remember?”

When nothing happened, Tony lifted his head from the pillow, his glare intensifying. “Lower the gun _now_.”

It took the assassin another minute before the press against Steve’s skin vanished.

“Thank you, Buttercup.” Tony’s head fell back onto the pillow and he closed his eyes.

“Tony!”

“…jus…tired…” He mumbled, something akin to a smile grazing his lips. A second later, Peter was laying down beside Tony, pillowing his head on the genius right arm. A fleeing smile wandered over Tony’s expression, smoothing out some of the worry and pain lines.

“Steve?”

He glanced behind himself, before looking back down on Tony and Peter. They looked so calm. So relaxed. So happy. Even if Tony was too pale, too thin, hurt and unable to stay conscious.

When Steve sat down on the chair May ordered him to, the Winter Soldier moved back to the wall, his gaze wandering between Tony, Steve, the door and the corner with the microphone.

Steve had deep bruising on his hip, several abrasions and a broken wrist.

May send him to his own floor, ordering to clean up and come back _after_ he did that.

Steve refused.

Up until the point at which Jarvis told him that Sir wouldn’t be happy if he didn’t take care of himself. Steve could barely hold back the furious hiss that Tony had no room to talk and it _might_ help him understand how Steve was feeling.

As soon as he was in the elevator he asked after his team, promising them that Tony was as good as they could expect him to be at the moment.

After taking the shortest shower and throwing on sweatpants and a t-shirt, Steve ran back to Tony’s room. Even if he had had a running commentary by Jarvis about what happened in Tony’s bedroom, which was, gratefully, absolutely nothing.

Jarvis had also told him everything he knew about what was happening in the fight against Hydra.

Colonel Rhodes, who was probably even more pissed than Steve that Tony had pulled this stupid stunt, had organized a national wide operation that worked surprisingly well. There were some stand stills, a lot of fire fights and too many lives lost, but they were gaining the upper hand.

The same with the different superhero teams fighting.

Luca and her family had surprisingly good news from Europe, their _infestation_ as she had called it, didn’t seem to be as severe, especially in other countries.

Steve could barely listen to them. He didn’t relax until he was back in the room, letting May put a thick bandage on his hand that he wouldn’t even need in a couple more hours.

“Jarvis, would you order food for… everyone?”

“Certainly, Mrs. Parker.” Jarvis agreed, as the nurse left the room, her eyes wandering warningly over Steve and the Winter Soldier.

“Why are you here?” Steve asked, voice low enough that no one without enhanced hearing would be able to hear him.

The cold blue eyes of the assassin flashed towards him, staring for a moment before he pointedly looked at Tony as if that was all the answer Steve needed.

“But why? What do you want?”

The Winter Soldier looked back at Steve, not answering, just staring.

“What do you want with him?” He didn’t hold back on the frustration, the suspicion or anger when he asked his questions.

The assassin didn’t react at all.

Steve tried it a couple more times but stopped when Peter woke up and all of them were fed by May.

Winter didn’t take the plate that was handed to him, eyeing it warily.

“Cap?”

Steve startled, his eyes flashing downwards to his hands that were holding onto Tony’s. The other man grumbled something, moving a little but, thankfully, didn’t wake.

“Yes?”

“We’re on our way back but there is a complication.”

As Jarvis had already informed them twenty minutes ago that law enforcement, in cooperation with the Shield agents who were (believed to be) trustworthy had the situation in New York under control, and that Fury was muted by Jarvis for the time being, Steve guessed that their complication was big, green, and frighteningly stubborn if he wanted to be.

“Hulk?”

“He demands to see his Tin Man before he gives us Bruce back.”

Clint didn’t sound surprised, just tired.

“Okay.”

“Can he meet us on the helipad?”

Steve looked down on Tony, still sleeping for the better part of four hours.

“I take your silence as a no. Are you on Tony’s floor?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, he enforced that one like Bruce’s and the common floor, right?”

Steve wasn’t sure, but Nat agreed.

“We’ll be there in five. Try to get the Winter Soldier out of there.”

Steve’s eyes jumped up meeting the ice blue ones of the assassin. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to without destroying the whole Tower.”

“Fuck.”

“Can you put me through?”

“One moment. You’re on speaker, Cap.”

“Hulk?”

A growl, low, but not threateningly answered him.

“Hulk, Tony is fine. He is in his bed, sleeping. You can come see him, but no smashing, okay?”

A different growl vibrated through Steve’s earpiece, that sounded almost offended. “Not hurt Tin Man.”

“No, I know you wouldn’t, but… here is someone else.”

“Hurt Tin Man?”

Steve hesitated.

“We haven’t seen it.” Natasha, who could be as smooth as Tony and was diplomatic if the situation demanded it, didn’t sound that sure.

“Smash?”

“No!” Steve said, his voice louder then he meant it to be. Tony moved again, snuggling a little closer to Peter, who lay beside him, his big brown eyes on Steve.

“No, no smashing Hulk. Tony doesn’t want us to. Tin Man says he is a friend.” God only knew why, but as long as the Winter Soldier didn’t give them a reason, they wouldn’t hurt him.

“Friend?” The behemoth didn’t sound convinced.

“Yes, Tin Man says he is a friend. No smashing.” Steve looked back up to the assassin. He didn’t seem concerned. Didn’t he know the Hulk? Did he think he could take him?

The growl he received as an answer wasn’t very reassuring. Which, if Steve was honest to himself, what he often was, excluding certain topics he just very recently started to acknowledge, calmed him considerably. Hulk would protect Tony.

Even if, right now, that could actually endanger the genius and Peter.

“See you in a minute.” He took the earpiece out and switched it off, turning to Peter. “They are on their way and-”

“I heard.” He nodded, his expression determined.

“Good. If the Hulk reacts… emotional, grab Tony and get him out of here.”

Peter nodded again as the Winter Soldier growled, low and threatening, even if it couldn’t reach the Hulk’s growl by miles.

“You know about the Hulk?” He didn’t get an answer. “Move slow. Don’t threaten him. Don’t threaten Tony.”

The assassin let another growl slip.

“If he gets angry, he will kill you.”

The blue eyes flashed towards Tony and Steve could have sworn he was about to jump forward and grab Steve’s genius to run.

But he didn’t get the chance as all three of them heard heavy foot steps on the roof moving towards the stairs, which Tony, of course, had built wide enough to let the Hulk use them.

Steve’s eyes wandered back to the Winter Soldier, who grabbed his gun tighter.

“Put it away it will just make him angry.”

The assassin glared at him, provokingly.

“Tony could get hurt if you two start fighting here!” He growled at the other man, leaning over the genius. “Put it away!”

“Steve?” Tony mumbled, his hand flexing in Steve’s and he looked down on the whiskey coloured eyes, still fogged over.

“It’s okay, Tony, the Hulk just-”

“Fuck!” Tony tried to push himself into a sitting position and only managed it because Peter and Steve helped him.

The pain lines on his face disappeared, as Tony turned towards the Winter Soldier.

“Buttercup, I-”

The closer coming steps stopped for a moment as they heard the door to the stairwell unlock and being opened.

“Tin Man!” The Hulk demanded.

“I’m fine, big guy.” Tony called, his voice too hoarse, too weak to sound fine.

The walls shook as the Hulk advanced.

“Stay calm, he is not going to harm you.” Tony’s gaze was focused on the Winter Soldier. “I promise you, he is not going to hurt anyone, okay? I-”

Hulk stepped into the bedroom door, his furious eyes fixed on the Winter Soldier, a threatening growl escaping his lips that vibrated through Steve’s very bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of you are fine and holding on.
> 
> Thanks to all of you who leave comments. They mean the world to me and right now, they are my silver linings.


	25. Winter: Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter and the Hulk in one room. What could possibly go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignoring all of my problems and write is not a good choice but a better coping mechanism when alcoholism or taking Chrystal meth... So I think I'm doing fine.
> 
> Enjoy!

Being shot at was almost calming, Winter decided. Right now, capturing and killing the enemies that he was pointed at felt almost safe. The almost was important because he was thinking for himself and was not the mindless Asset. Also, the leader of the Avengers pointed at Hydra and Winter followed out of his own free will.

Still the mere action was soothing. It was better than the talks. Than watching Tony… put himself in danger over and over again.

Winter was uneasy. Leaving Tony behind wasn’t what he wanted to do. He trusted Tony that he believed to be safe with those people. But Winter didn’t trust them. He didn’t trust they would (be able to) protect him. Didn’t trust that they would (take good enough) care of him. Didn’t trust they wouldn’t hurt, kidnap or kill Winter during this mission. Hawkeye had mentioned it often enough.

And he didn’t trust them to let him go back to Tony.

It wouldn’t stop him. He would try to not hurt them. Tony liked them. But he wouldn’t let them hold him back.

Killing another Hydra agent to safe the Captain’s life barely registered. But the way the Captain looked at him, the way he was distracted during the fight to a point Winter wanted to knock him out and drag him away, made him nervous.

He didn’t have words to answer the Captain’s call and even if he had, Winter wasn’t sure he would have answered. What good would it do? He was here because Tony would have come instead if he hadn’t. Just like the Captain.

“Go after him.” Said Captain ordered Hawkeye.

“As in-”

“Cover him.”

“You sure?”

“Yes!”

Hawkeye grumbled something that Winter didn’t get. It didn’t matter anyway. The archer, louder as the three other Avengers, had voiced his intentions. He would kill Winter the second he got a reason to. Winter didn’t think the others wouldn’t be right there with him but they didn’t feel the need to voice it like that.

The glances of the Black Widow were telling on their own. She would honour the promise she made to Tony like Winter would honour his. But the moment the other stepped out of that promise all bets would be off and they _would_ try to kill him.

Winter knew there was a good chance they would succeed. They were earths mightiest heroes after all. But he also knew he would take some of them with him down. If he could. But he couldn’t do that to Tony. He didn’t want to hurt him any further and killing them would hurt him. He wouldn’t do it if there was any other way.

He had been ordered by the Captain to stay away from the Hulk, as the monster would kill him the second he saw him.

One glance to Dr. Banner and the intensity in his blazing green eyes confirmed it.

Winter would stay out of its way. He had overheard Hydra talk about the Hulk and their plans to capture it and make a weapon out of it as they had done to the Asset. They had never come up with something that would have worked without employing the Avengers – which Tony Stark had prevented by his very open attack to anyone who even thought about going against Dr. Banner or the Hulk.

Then someone, Jarvis, spoke up over the comms. Tony had mentioned the name before. He had said he was one of Tony’s as well and that Hydra had done something to him. Had Tony been wrong?

“Tony?” The Captain’s voice was filled with dread. Winter stopped in his movement, listening. Something was wrong.

“…Sir is being treated as we speak.”

Winter froze for a heartbeat. He heard the hitching breath of the Captain, before turning on his heel, leaving. The way the new man said it suggested he was treated again.

Regardless, Winter knew what treatment, maintenance, could look like. Something had changed, something was different now then a couple hours ago. Wrong in a way that all of the Avengers reacted loud and emotional over the comms.

Winter sped up.

The Black Widow and Hawkeye urged the Captain to follow Winter. They didn’t say to do why but it was either because they thought he would hurt Tony, or because they wanted to stop Winter from protecting Tony.

Stealing a motorbike, he drove toward the Tower, knowing full well it would attract the least attention with the get up he was wearing. To force himself to stay inside of the speed limit to actually not attract attention was difficult. He ditched the bike in an alley and entered the Tower unseen. He slipped into the stairwell, running upstairs as fast as he could. Being an enhanced and trained assassin had its perks.

The door to the staircase was unlocked, something he would have to talk about with Tony and rushed into the bedroom where he had left the genius.

Tony lay in his bed, unconscious. There weren’t any visible injuries or altercations to him, only a drip, and a furious panic in Winter settled some. But he looked more exhausted than before.

The kid, Peter, sat beside him on the bed. Winter approved the way he was obviously ready to defend the unconscious man when Winter stormed in. He wasn’t sure if he approved that the kid relaxed when he saw him come in.

“Everything is fine. He just… well, he- but everything is alright, Mr. Winter.” The kid seemed to be guilty, moving uncomfortably on the bed.

The running steps from the hall stopped Winter from attempting to figure out what was going on. Instead he placed himself between the bed and the door, pointing a weapon at the attacker. Mere seconds later Captain America burst through the door, his uniform torn and bloodied, his expression wild and determined.

It took Winter almost all of his concentration to not shoot him as soon as he was in front of his weapon.

The blue eyes of the Captain found Tony first, before looking at Winter and the potential deadly weapon pointing at him.

“Captain Ro-” The kid started sounding almost anxious.

“What happened?” The Captain snapped, hard and cold.

“Mr. Stark wanted to fix Jarvis and I told him he should-”

“Right now, Peter. What did _he_ do?” At that question his eyes bore directly into Winter, demanding answers, before glancing over his shoulder to the kid.

“I… Mr. Winter came in, looking like you, actually better, I think you broke your hand and is that blood-”

“Peter!” Desperation was loud and clear in the Captain’s voice now.

“Nothing, I swear! He just stared and I told him Mr. Stark will be fine.” The guilt in his voice got louder and Winter prepared to stop the Captain making Tony’s kid feel any worse. Winter wasn’t happy that the kid, Peter, had let Tony do whatever he had done to _fix Jarvis_ , whatever that meant, but he knew that aside from drugs or shackling the man to the bed there was nothing that could be done to stop Tony. The Captain must know that if he really was his friend.

Winter, accepting the reassurance of the kid, lowered his weapon, moving back to his spot at the wall and kept an eye on the Captain who, right now, was the biggest threat. Even if the enhanced …Peter was still closer to Tony. But his demeanour, body language, voice and expression were consistent since moment one in his adoration for Tony.

“Jarvis?” The Captain asked something Winter hadn’t paid attention to because he was still forcing his heartbeat to calm down so that he would be able to react when something happened.

“Sir-”

The voice was the same he had heard over the comms earlier. And it was coming from a speaker in the corner of the room. There was also a camera and most likely a microphone to pick up every sound in the room.

Winter jumped forward his gun pointing at the tech, even if it wouldn’t harm the person behind it. He had planted such devices on enemies of Hydra. He had been observed, studied and dictated by these things. He wouldn’t let whoever was behind the devices do that to Tony. And never again to himself.

“No, Mr. Winter, it’s just Jarvis. He would never hurt Tony!” The kid, Peter, had raised his hands, smiling at Winter in a calming manner. Did he know what could be done by watching someone around the clock? Could he know what-

“I assure you Mr. Winter, that I would _never_ harm Sir.” The voice was hard, a threat obvious in his words. Because Winter had hurt Tony? Had Tony told him? Or because Winter could step in if he tried to hurt Tony?

“Mr. Stark has ordered me to take care of you. I will do so, of course, but be warned, if you hurt Sir, I will take action.”

The protectiveness in that voice was as obvious as the reality of the threat. Winter didn’t know what this Jarvis could do, but he believed him that he would do everything he could to destroy Winter if he hurt Tony.

He glowered up at the camera. The other man had the upper hand, seeing Winter while he didn’t know what the other man looked like, or what he could do.

Tony trusted him, though. He had feared for him and wanted to return to help him. It wasn’t hard for Winter to believe that there were that many people who would protect Tony. It was hard to believe there were so many people that… accepted Tony’s word and didn’t kill Winter. All of them knew that Winter had hurt Tony. And they only knew about the kidnapping, probably. They didn’t know he had shot Tony. Didn’t know he had drugged him. Didn’t know he had taken his decisions from him.

Whatever would happen when they found out, Winter would be ready. He nodded at the camera, not caring if the other person grasped the threat in his eyes. If Jarvis did hurt Tony, Winter would act, too.

“Jay…”

Winter’s head snapped down, meeting Tony’s eyes. He was visibly exhausted, his gaze hazy from drugs.

Almost more important was that the Captain had moved closer, reaching out to Tony. Winter didn’t think, he just reacted, pressing the muzzle of his gun to the Captain’s temple, freezing him effectively in his movement.

“Winter, no.” Tony’s voice was rough and weak. “…friends, remember?”

Winter did remember. But the Captain could be dangerous. As dangerous as Winter. He could hurt Tony. He had moved too fast, too suddenly and Winter couldn’t make his limb follow Tony’s logic.

Tony lifted his head from the pillow, which visibly strained him and glared at Winter. "Put the gun down now."

He had promised Tony to not hurt them. The Captain hadn’t done anything yet. Forcing himself under control, he lowered the gun.

“Thank you, Buttercup.” His head fell back onto the pillow and his eyes slipped close. That had apparently taken all the strength the other man had. It scared Winter.

“Tony!” The Captain sounded almost frantic, surging forward and clutching onto Tony’s hand.

Winter’s gun hand twitched. But he kept it still.

“…jus…tired…” Tony mumbled, smiling. It widened when Peter lay down beside him, putting his head on his shoulder. He fell asleep a minute later, his breathing evening out.

Winter moved back to his spot, keeping watch, while the Captain was sent away to take a shower by the nurse. While he was gone, she freed Tony of the drip and checked his pulse.

“Why are you here?”

Winter looked at the Captain whose intense stare was fixed on him. His voice had been low and quiet to not attract attention.

It was a rather stupid question, but trying to show some good will, he glanced at Tony before looking back into the intense blue eyes.

“But why? What do you want?”

There was no way Winter could answer that. Not even if he had his words.

“What do you want with him?” This question was frustrated and hard. The suspicion was back full force.

Winter didn’t answer him. How could he? The Captain didn’t know. He didn’t understand. Tony had been there when Winter had finally… woken up. It was a good comparison, Winter thought. He had woken up fully because Tony had been kind. He hadn’t been afraid. Not of the threats, not of the handler and not of Winter. Even after reading the files. He had tried to protect Winter. He had… he had been there. And even after being freed he was there. He hadn’t hurt Winter yet. And Winter trusted that he wouldn’t.

He wanted to stay with Tony. To learn. To not be alone anymore. To be… to make decisions. To not be forced to hurt and kill. To be safe. To be friends with Tony.

After that the Captain asked more questions, but nothing Winter could have answered with a nod or a shake of his head. He thought about knocking on the wall. But the Captain wouldn’t understand it, would he?

The nurse brought them food which both the kid and the Captain ate. Winter didn’t. She had medications to knock Winter out, or to hurt him and she didn’t like him. He wouldn’t eat that no matter how much his body needed it.

When the rest of the Avengers called in Winter still had the earpiece in. Of course, he had.

The Captain’s eyes met Winter’s when the Black Widow all but ordered the other man to get him out of the room when they planned to bring the Hulk to a vulnerable Tony.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to without destroying the whole Tower.”

Winter had to agree. The Captain could try to remove him, but Winter would fight him with all he had.

Listening to all of them trying to calm the Hulk was rather telling. They made everything simpler for the monster, being vague, not lying to him.

Instructing the kid, Peter, to get Tony out of the room if the Hulk would attack was a good idea. Tony wasn’t able to protect himself right now. It didn’t change that Winter growled at the suggesting they take Tony away from him. All of this could be staged after all. They could have come up with it while Winter was already on his way back to the Tower.

“You know the Hulk?” The Captain asked, condescendingly. “Move slow. Don’t threaten him. Don’t threaten Tony.”

Winter growled again. He wasn’t stupid. And he wouldn’t threaten Tony.

“If he gets angry, he will kill you.”

He would certainly try. Winter glanced at Tony. All he wanted to do was grab the other man and run. Possibly taking the kid with them. But he couldn’t. Tony would be angry with him if he did. He clutched his gun tighter.

Winter ignored the Captain while he listened to the thundering footsteps coming closer. All of his muscles tensed, preparing himself as his mind quieted down once again. Focusing on the door, Winter calmed down. This was what he knew. Fighting against impossible odds. Being put against enemies that were outnumbering him. This he knew. Of course, now he also had to protect Tony, but it was still better than all the _talking_.

“Tony could get hurt if you two start fighting here!” The Captain growled, leaning over Tony, as if protecting the other man. “Put it away!”

“Steve?”

The Captain looked down onto Tony and his expression softened, a smile almost forming on his lips.

“It’s okay, Tony, the Hulk just-”

“Fuck!” Tony tried to push himself into a sitting position and only managed it because …Peter and the Captain helped him.

Instead of reacting to the kid that was clinging to him, or the Captain who tried to keep Tony calm, he looked to Winter, meeting his eyes.

“Buttercup, I-”

“Tin Man!” The guttural voice of the Hulk demanded, already on their floor.

“I’m fine, big guy.” Tony probably meant that to sound convincing. It didn’t.

The Hulk moved faster and was almost there, when Tony’s eyed focused on Winter again.

“Stay calm, he is not going to harm you.”

Winter didn’t answer. He was pretty sure that he could avoid the Hulk if he wanted to. He was more concerned that Tony wouldn’t be able to if it came to a fight.

The green monster stepped into the doorframe and his eyes were set on Winter, a threatening growl rattling everything in the room.

Winter wasn’t impressed.

“Big guy!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Winter saw Tony beam at the green monster, his voice cheerful and happy. Exhaustion was visible and audible, but no pain, no fear or discomfort.

“Tin Man.” The Hulk answered, his eyes wandering back to Winter, before taking a step closer.

Winter didn’t move a muscle. He barely acknowledged the Black Widow and Hawkeye stepping into the bedroom after the Hulk.

“Hurt?”

“Just a little bit, Hulk, I’m fine.”

At that Winter growled, almost silently, but loud enough that all of them reacted. The Captain, Black Widow and Hawkeye tensed as if reading themselves to attack. Tony rolled his eyes. The kid looked surprised. The Hulk almost frowned.

“Okay, yes, I’m not fine _right now_ , but I’m getting better already so I’m going to _be fine_. Seriously, Buttercup, we have to-”

“Mask Man hurt Tin Man?”

Tony hesitated for a heartbeat.

“He helped me escape the bad men who were hurting me, big guy. He is my friend.”

The frown on the green face darkened.

“Bad men?”

“They had me, but I’m back now, because of Winter.”

The Hulk made another step into the room, dwarfing everything in his presence. Everyone tensed. Everyone but Tony, who looked unconcerned and comfortable. As if he really did not fear anything. Winter wanted to knock three times but it would just make everything more difficult, he was sure.

“Hulk-” The Captain started, but before he could say anything, the monster lurched forward, grabbing Tony.

He was fast enough to surprise even Winter. It didn’t change that he was on the beast a heartbeat later.

The kid, Peter, had tried to grab Tony back, but only succeeded in almost getting snatched up to.

Winter used his momentum to propel himself from the wall to ram his metal shoulder into the Hulk’s solar plexus when he half turned, Tony in one of his fists.

The giant stumbled back a step, destroying the bed under his feet and flinging the kid from his hand when he tried to find his balance again.

Ignoring the screams all around him, and that the kid was caught by the Captain, he advanced, trying to get to Tony, who wasn’t struggling, but trying to talk to both Winter and the Hulk.

Neither listened to him. Tackling the side that didn’t hold Tony, the backhand of the Hulk connected with Winter, flinging him backwards and into a wall that crumbled and cracked all around him.

“Winter!” Now, Tony sounded distressed and Winter, ignoring everything, jumped forward, letting go of his gun in favour of trying to punch his metal hand into the stomach of the Hulk. Which didn’t give even an inch.

Something else crashed when Winter was pushed back into some furniture or other. He didn’t even bother looking, his eyes fixed on the Hulk, who held Tony up higher and _growled_.

That growl was animalistic and promised pain, death and destruction. The beast wouldn’t part with his pray, wouldn’t let another predator have it as long as it breathed.

Winter mimicked his stance and growled back. It wasn’t as loud, didn’t vibrate in your bones, but it was as threateningly. As dangerous. As deadly. He wouldn’t stop until Tony was safe. He wouldn’t give up.

Hulk lowered his head, his growl changing to something more protective. Even more fierce.

Winter matched that growl, taking a step closer, not losing eye contact. Not even blinking.

Hulk lowered his arm some, putting Tony, who was still yelling, even though it visibly exhausted him, in front of his chest, his second arm coming up to put a barrier between Winter and Tony.

Winter growled louder, not advancing because Tony was in danger of being crushed. Even if it was obviously a protective gesture.

Hulk looked at him, as if trying to figure Winter out. As if he was a puzzle the beast tried to solve. He made a new sound, not a growl, more like a question, while he held Tony a little closer without hurting the man, who was patting the thick green arm that was holding him, saying calming words.

Winter nodded. Yes, he wanted Tony to be safe. Yes, he would fight till the death to make sure he was safe.

As would the Hulk. Winter understood.

The acid green eyes flickered to the kid, who was standing beside the Captain, wringing his hands anxiously.

The Hulk met Winter’s eyes again and Winter nodded, fractionally.

Hulk nodded once too. Keeping a close eye on Winter, he hugged Tony closer once more, gingerly patting the genius’ back, who mumbled something soothing and reassuring.

Then he handed the genius over to Peter, who, as soon as he realized what he wanted to do, stepped forward with extended arms to take him.

“Really, big guy?” Tony huffed, annoyed, his eyes meeting first the Hulk’s and then Winter’s. “You do know I can walk, right?”

The kid held Tony close, ignoring expertly as the genius struggled to be put down.

Was that something friends did? Keeping an eye out for the Hulk and the rest of the Avengers, Winter wondered about that. Taking Tony without asking wasn’t okay. But he wouldn’t be able to stand no matter what the injured man said. Was it okay than? Or was it okay because it was the kid?

“Fuck it.” Tony sighed, exhaustion clinging to him like a second skin.

“As much as I love to have you here, big guy, can you give us Bruce back?”

The Hulk grumbled something and looked back at Winter, making a warning sound, which Winter answered with a raised eyebrow.

Communication could be so simple.

Dr. Banner was caught by Hawkeye when he changed back, looking as exhausted as Tony. When he saw the destruction of Tony’s bedroom he appeared to be horrified. Before he could say anything, Tony was already talking.

“Don’t worry, Brucey, I wanted to redecorate anyway. Now, as fun as all of this is, and don’t believe for a second that _any of you_ will get away with this, let’s move to another room so that _Peter_ can finally put me down.” At that he glared at the kid that just smiled innocently up at him.

“I can give you to Captain Rogers or Mr. Winter if you want.”

“Sometimes I hate you, kid.” His tone was saying the opposite. As did the annoyed smile.

Peter seemed to think so too, as he smile just grew.

“Common floor?” Hawkeye suggested, supporting Dr. Banner’s weight.

“Yes.” The Captain looked towards Tony, his expression concerned, before settling on Peter. “Why don’t you go downstairs. I’m going to get our mattresses and you-” he pointed at the three Avengers “-get cleaned up and join us afterwards.

Winter didn’t wait for the argument, but followed Peter, who was still carrying Tony in his arms, out of the room, his eyes set on the Black Widow, who carefully examined him.

An hour later all of them were in the living room of the common floor, as Tony had explained. Peter had huddled him in blankets and placed on the couch.

Winter had sat down on a comfortable chair he had placed strategically close to Tony on the couch, with a clear sight of the room and the hall.

More food had been delivered and the Black Widow had handed him shrink wrapped sandwiches and unopened bottled water.

Winter had accepted them. He had eaten and drunk them after Tony, who had been woken up to eat something too, glared at him. The kid had promised to keep an eye on Tony while Winter turned his back on him while eating to keep his face hidden.

After the meal the Avengers had got more mattresses, pillows and blankets and arranged them on the floor and themselves around Tony. Since cleaning up, and Winter sitting a little farther away, at least one of them had been in close contact to Tony the whole time. If it wasn’t the Captain, holding his hand or touching his arm, it was Dr. Banner, touching his shoulder or Hawkeye snuggling up to Tony while berating him. Or the Black Widow, placing a hand on his cheek, or his back.

Peter didn’t let go at all.

Winter was observing closely but neither of them did anything aside from touching the genius, giving him more food, or tea, or pillows or medication or-

It was barely eight pm when the Avengers settled down to sleep. Tony was already sleeping for more than an hour, as was the kid, hugging his arm close to his chest.

Captain Rogers lay down on Tony’s other side, his eyes meeting Winter for a moment, before settling down. Close. One hand on the arm of the other man.

Dr. Banner and Hawkeye settled down on either side of them, falling asleep almost instantly.

The Black Widow had taken another armchair and settled into it with a mug of tea. Neither of them said a word.

It was almost a companionable silence.

Around one am Hawkeye woke up, changing places with the Black Widow.

He mumbled some threats from time to time, each more inventive than the last. Sometimes he giggled quietly when he came up with something new, grinning obnoxiously at Winter.

At just after four in the morning a rumbling crash trembled through the Tower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short warning: Next week is going to be equally terrible to this one, I fear, so there is a possibility I might not be able to write or post. Just so you know.
> 
> As always: your comments give me life, thanks for all of you amazing people!


	26. Tony: Another Addition in the Trauma Collection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor Shows up after everything is taken care of... again. And some talks happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone :D
> 
> I'm still alive. That is actually an achievement this week. I've never hated myself more for being able to judge correctly how sucky something will get. 
> 
> Anyhow, this chapter got a beta reader who - hopefully - will help me to master the English language enough to not embarrass myself too much ;) It's the lovely @Justanotherpuff. Thank you so much!

Tony was woken by a loud rumbling crash – and two bodies piling on him.

“What the-” Tony wheezed, trying to bite back the hiss of pain – and failed. Not surprising really, it’s hard to do anything when you’re ripped out of a drugged sleep and two super soldiers are practically lying on you. It would have been bad enough if it was just the Arc Reactor they were leaning on, but they also pressed down on his abused ribs and twice shot shoulder. 

A second later the bodies moved back and he saw Peter, grabbing Winter and trying to move him farther and Nat holding onto Steve. The both of them glared at each other, although Winter looked at Tony the second he had a clear line of sight.

His eyes were worried, dark, ready and just one step away from grabbing Tony and running or start fighting and Tony, with the very little patience he had under better conditions, was fucking done with both options. 

“What the fuck?” He repeated his earlier question, ignoring how weak his voice sounded.

“He-” Steve started but was interrupted by another rumbling crash. 

Winter magicked a gun out of thin air, or at least it looked to Tony like that. Steve, who was still practically sitting on Tony – while Winter was kneeling right before him and holy shit Clint had his bow out and fuck Brucey was green, or at least his eyes were. At least Natasha, nope, she, too, had a gun out. 

Tony was way too tired for this shit. Worsened by the drugs May and the others had made him take, he was barely able to string two thoughts together. And that was before he really was on his last nerve. If forced to – and he literally was – he could understand that the others needed the closeness, to know everyone was fine. But he needed peace and quiet (and his Honeybear because this proximity to Steve did _things_ to Tony and he was mentally too exhausted to stop his greedy body and mind to not want what he couldn’t have).

“Calm down!” Tony ordered, letting his eyes wander over all of them before looking back at Winter. “It’s just Thor who, _conveniently_ comes back after everything has already happened. Again.”

“Someone really has to talk with him about that.” Clint muttered from his corner, not putting his arrow away but also not shooting it at the moment so Tony counted it as a win.

Winter didn’t relax even a fraction, his eyes wild and almost panicked. 

“When was the last time you slept, Winter?” Tony asked, trying to remember and holy shit was that back in the house they appropriated? That was… too long ago – and no, he wouldn’t admit to have thought that even under torture, but super soldiers needed to sleep, too.

Winter, of course, didn’t answer. Tony hadn’t thought he would. That would have been way too easy. And easy wasn’t something that happened in the Stark household. 

“Jay?”

“Thor is on his way, Sir. And if Mr. Winter and Captain Rogers would _step back_ I would very much appreciate it.”

Winter, throwing a suspicious glance to the main camera and speaker, didn’t move. Steve didn’t either. 

“This is getting ridiculous. Put your weapons away.” Tony reached forward, grabbing Winter’s gun and tugged at it. He very pointedly ignored the stiffening of everyone around him and the way Nat moved forward quietly as if ready to throw herself between them. 

The only one something akin to relaxed was Peter, although he too was stressed, just not _as_ stressed as the others. Tony didn’t want to think about how that could be, because it either meant he trusted Winter, and that could be potentially disastrous, or he trusted Tony’s word – which could be that much worse.

“We’re safe, Buttercup. It’s just Thor. Another friend. Nothing bad is going to happen, okay? Even if it might look like Point Break is going to suffocate or break any of us, it’s just going to be a hug.” 

Winter growled, his expression – okay, his eyes, Tony didn’t see anything else behind his mask – dark and terrifying. Or at least Steve seemed to think so, as he leaned even closer.

“Nope, you’re not going to try to kill Thor.”

Winter’s eyebrow twitched and his fingers flexed on his gun.

“No, absolutely not. No one is getting shot here, okay? Put the gun away. Please.” He glared at Winter, trying very hard to get across that he could trust him without giving too much away. 

Judging by the reaction of the others, most of all Brucey and Nat, he had already given too much away by saying please. But he couldn’t order him. If he did, if he- He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Not if there was any other way.

Winter twitched, as if he wanted to rip the gun out of Tony’s hand, but didn’t. And Tony was at least 100% certain it had nothing to do with Cap’s rather impressive stare. Or the fact that most of the Avengers were ready to fight what had been the Winter Soldier four days ago. 

Nope. Not going there. 

Loosening his grip on the gun, Winter handed it to Tony. It was a lied offer of peace because there was no way in hell that he wasn’t armed to the teeth. Still, it was a visible sign that he would try to not attack Thor.

“Thanks, Buttercup.” Tony smiled at him and knew it was warmer than it should be, but he was drugged to the gills so who could blame him? 

He. He could blame himself. 

The elevator doors opened and Thor, in all his glory, stepped onto the common floor, his voice booming with a child-like excitement. “My friends! Friend Jarvis informed me that-” He stopped, taking the scene in, his expression changing from relaxed to cautious, even if his smile stayed the same and almost nothing in his posture changed.

“Friend Tony, what happened to you?” 

Someone who didn’t know Thor as well as the Avengers did, wouldn’t have seen the subtle shift. The way he readied his stance, or the dangerous glint in his eyes, hidden behind the simple minded joyfulness he liked to display whenever he could. 

Everyone and their grandmother would have picked up on the electricity in the air, the smell of ozone and the decreased cheerfulness in his voice. Because Thor wanted Winter to know that he wouldn’t stand for one of his teammates being threatened or hurt. 

“Another kidnapping.” Tony answered, smiling and shrugging the shoulder that hadn’t been used for target practice. 

“Two.” Steve growled and Tony glanced back at the blue eyes that were still glaring at Winter – even if he had nothing to do with the one …last week? Had it been last week? Tony didn’t remember and he didn’t care. Just some more fun for nightmares and another addition in his trauma collection. 

“Yeah well, two, but the first one barely-”

“Don’t.” The pain, deep and cutting in Steve’s voice stopped Tony faster than the glares and protests of the others.

“And your new… friend?” Thor still smiled, picking up on all their cues and no doubt seeing more than Tony wanted him to see right now. Or ever.

“This is Winter. Thor, Winter. Winter, the god of thunder. Yada, yada.” He tried to get into a more comfortable sitting position, but neither man moved even a millimetre. This would get annoying fast. So very damn fast. 

“He saved Mr. Stark.” Peter leaned closer, his hand still holding onto the assassin who hadn’t tried to attack yet – which was an amazing thing, still Tony wished the kid would let go of him before Winter reached his limit. 

Thor smiled at Peter, his eyes softening, even if he never lost his edge. “In that case I wish to be told this grant tale.”

“Sure, why not, it’s too god damn early for anyone to be awake but-” Tony started what might have become one of his epic rants – copyright requested – but was interrupted by Jarvis prim voice – a sure indicator that Tony better do what Jarvis wanted him to do if he didn’t want to suffer the cold shoulder – and since he just got his baby boy back he really didn’t want to… since when did he let himself be guilt tripped into-

“I’m ordering breakfast and started the coffee machine, Sir. Also, I _advise_ you Mr. Winter and Captain Rogers, to _move back_ or I will have to take action.”

Before Tony could even react– and yes that was _definitely_ because of the drugs and not because everyone on this team was faster than him, the mere mortal without any enhancements or special assassin training, just the drugs – (or Jarvis could activate the suits) Peter started to actually bodily drag back the former Winter Soldier, which he allowed – and wasn’t that a superpower they would have to talk about later. Bruce and Natasha dragged back Steve. Both just a couple of centimetres but enough that Tony seized the opportunity and sat up, wincing. 

“It is good that you take such great care of your father, Jarvis.” Thor smiled up at the ceiling, but Tony had heard the almost hidden tone in his voice. He not only knew now that Jarvis was pissed, he would most likely try to get between the two super soldiers and Tony – and that was something that could not happen in his Tower, because he liked the Tower as it was. He already had to renovate his floor and that was enough. (Although he couldn’t even remember the last time he had slept there… it must have been before the second to last kidnapping which was… some time ago. Fuck, he needed to get his head back on straight.)

Winter, who still hadn’t fought Peter at all – he would get an extra cookie for that (it also proved Tony’s theory that no one with a heart could attack _Peter_ (and probably that Winter had a heart)) – caught Tony’s eyes. His were wide and uncertain. Maybe even afraid. Fuck.

Tony reached out to Winter, unable to stop himself, as he would have been unable to stop himself if Peter had looked at him like that. Oh fuckity fuck. Nope. Not going there. 

“It’s okay, Buttercup. All these annoying people are part of my family. They are friends. Even Point Break over there who just woke us up.” He patted Winter's flesh arm and smiled calmingly at the other man.

He didn’t show any reaction but Tony could have sworn he relaxed some.

It took some glaring and rearranging, but about ten minutes later everyone was sitting in a semi-circle, sipping tea or coffee and telling their part of the last five days. It had felt a lot longer to Tony. 

On his left sat Steve who had blankly refused to move even an inch farther then Bruce and Nat had been able to drag him. His gaze alternated between Tony and Winter, who had taken a comfy chair and dragged it right behind Tony and Peter, who leaned on Tony’s right side, still yawning and all adorably. Not that Tony would think that.

Tony winced sympathetically when Clint explained that he and Steve had been the ones to tell Peter that Tony had managed to get snatched basically the moment he turned his back on his mentor – who should be better than that. He was Iron Man for fuck’s sake! 

The kid didn’t seem to think so. At least he just hugged Tony’s arm tighter, pressing his warmth reassuringly to Tony’s side.

“I’m sorry, Petey.” He murmured, trying to ruffle the kid’s hair but aborting the motion when he saw the glares all around when he tried to move his injured shoulder.

“Not your fault.” His kid murmured, hugging the arm so tight by now it was only a matter of time for him to lose all feelings in it.

“Yeah well, neither was it yours.” 

Peter didn’t answer. As did no one else. Most of them even avoided his gaze until Natasha started to explain in a business-like tone, that they took off as soon as they knew Peter was safe – Tony approved – and didn’t tell Fury – Tony approved very much – and met up with a contact of Natasha’s. 

(She mostly glossed over the reactions of seeing the video that Asshole had shot of him, and Tony was thankful for that. It hadn’t been one of his prouder moments. She also glossed over the fact that he owed them the same apology. They had wanted to come with him and he had told them he would be fine. What if Pepper had been with Tony that night? Would Winter have killed her like he did the driver? Closing off those thoughts he tried very hard to not show any of them in his expression.) 

“And who might that mysterious contact be?” He asked, his tone teasing. There was a good chance he knew already, from their late-night talks, because sometimes Nat actually did talk. 

Instead her green eyes flickered up to Winter, before she met his gaze.

Fair enough. 

“Then we got the second video.” Natasha’s voice faltered and it shocked Tony more than the fact that there had been a second video.

Natasha’s voice didn’t falter. Her expression didn’t pinch and there couldn’t be a glint in her absolutely not hurt and desperate eyes.

“What second video?” He looked at Winter who almost unnoticeably shook his head. 

The silence all around him was horrified, agonized and as telling as the eyes of his teammates, filled with a desperation that choked Tony with the daunting realization that they had broken. These heroes, these people he looked up to, that he would never measure up to, had broken when they thought he was gone.

Why?

“You thought… you thought- and you didn’t tell me?”

All eyes flashed to Peter, who had tears shining in his eyes, his voice filled with desperation and betrayal.

“Peter…” Steve started, his voice thick with something that couldn’t be tears. Sure, they were friends and family, but Tony didn’t want to know that he could make Steve cry.

“No! Why didn’t you tell me?” Peter demanded, tears now falling down his face, his arms clutching at Tony as if he feared he would disappear any second now.

The slow movement from behind had everyone else going for their weapons, but Winter just tapped Peter on the shoulder. Three times. Probably more instinctual than anything else, Peter loosened his almost crushing grip on Tony’s ribcage – not that Tony had felt the bruising force while seeing his kid cry and Steve fight with actual tears because he had fucked up. Again.

Looking at the others wasn’t any better. Bruce’s eyes were brown and dark, grieve visible in them, his expression and the set of his shoulders. Clint’s eyes, focussed on Winter, still seemed to be far away. His normally open expression was closed off and cold, his knuckles white. 

Nat was even worse. For just a heartbeat Tony saw the _hurt_ , the _vulnerability_ in her green eyes, that seemed to have a misty glint to them, before her expression slipped behind a marble mask, her eyes fixed on Winter with a deadly intensity that told Tony almost everything he needed to know. Fuck. Winter had staged it. He was the one that, at least in the video, had killed Tony. It must have been after the goons beat him unconscious and before Winter had grabbed him and ran.

Fuck. 

“I called you.” Steve’s voice was almost unrecognizable and Tony had reached out with his left hand and grabbed Steve’s right before he even realized what he was doing.

Steve blinked, smiling blearily at Tony, obviously fighting for control as he tried to answer Peter.

“You were already in the Tower and-”

“It was under attack.” Peter finished, his voice cold.

Tony hugged his kid with his right arm after wriggling it out between their bodies. He rubbed soothing circles on his back, trying to sooth him as best as he could – even though he had done this to him.

“He didn’t tell you afterwards because I called him.” Tony looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes. “I’m sorry, if I had known-”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Tony.” Steve insisted, more life and emphasis in his voice which made him almost sound like himself. “You called the first chance you got and-”

But he hadn’t. Granted, he hadn’t known they believed him to be dead – fuck – but he had waited after stealing the phone. He should have fought with Winter. He should have-

“What about your part of the story, friend Tony?” Thor smiled, his gaze way too intense for the simple expression he kept on his face. How anyone could believe his happy golden retriever act was a mystery to Tony. 

“I got napped, roughed up some and… they wanted me to work for them. I didn’t. Roughed up some more and then Buttercup here got us out.”

The silence that answered wasn’t very promising.

“Seriously?” Clint asked, frustrated. “You once told me a three-hour tale about how you went out into the mundane world to get a bagel. It must have taken you less then fifteen minutes to get that fucking bagel and you stretched that story out over _three hours_ and that shit sentence is all we get after looking for you for _five days_?”

“What can I say? Nothing happened.”

“You got shot.”

“You already know about that.”

“You got shot again!” 

“Yeah, well, that happened later.”

“You were kidnapped by the Winter Soldier!”

“He also saved me, so I don’t know why-”

“Hydra wanted you to work for them!”

“Birdbrain, everyone wants me to work for them.” Tony smiled his shit eating grin at Clint and it, once again, didn’t fail to make Clint huff.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Oh, I know. Love you, too, Birdbrain.”

“You better do, asshole. Because we do love you, too, Tony.” Clint glared at him, as if daring him to make a joke about it.

Tony wouldn’t have been able too if he had wanted to. He was speechless.

Nat used the silence to resume the story. They got back to her contact and were attacked by Hydra.

Tony looked to Steve, who had composed himself again, but flinched at the mention. Shit. Tony had wanted to be there for Steve when he found out – even if he was glad that at least _that_ was a conversation he didn’t have to have with him. The other one looming in the distance was worse enough. Fuck, if he could choose, he would have wanted to tell Steve that his arch nemesis was still out there. 

Rhodey had called them and told them about the names. He told them about the coordinates and after finding the left behind Hydra agents and clear signs that Tony had been there but wasn’t anymore, they decided to fly back to New York – after Winter had shot two politicians and eleven Hydra spies hiding in the Shield Strike team.

“You did WHAT?” Tony hissed, turning around to face Winter. “Are you insane!?!”

Winter just shrugged and Tony would have liked to strangle him.

“Where were you?” Nat asked, interrupting Tony’s plan to wriggle free from Peter and at least smack Winter.

“Kept safe.”

The way everyone in the room stiffened, aside from Peter and Winter, let Tony know in a subtle way, that he had fucked up again.

“Kept safe?” Bruce asked as nonchalant as he could manage, which wasn’t all that impressive taking his clenched fists into account.

“Yeah. I was…” He glanced back at Winter before almost kicking himself for it. He couldn’t make the others think Winter dictated what he said. He turned back and met Steve’s blue, stormy eyes. The smile that slipped onto his lips wasn’t even planned.

“We didn’t have the equipment to fix me up, so we squatted at a house, Jarvis, the name is Müller, find them and pay them for their troubles.”

“On it, Sir.”

“We were almost caught by Hydra goons but could avoid them, drove to the base and got the info gift ready for Rhodey” – and the USB drive safely hidden in Tony’s bathroom – “and then got to a private airfield owned by Hydra who, by the way, had stolen one of my designs for a Quinjet and had the _audacity_ to change it. Of course, they fucked it up, I mean who could be stupid enough to try to improve _my-_ ”

“You told me I should.” Peter murmured, still safely hidden in Tony’s side and Tony was so happy to hear the cheek back in his kid’s voice he barely even snorted.

“That’s different Petey-Pie you’re a genius too, you can do better than me, but those assholes? They can’t design their way out of a paper bag. I mean who would-”

“We get it, Hydra is evil. Get on with it.”

“They aren’t only evil, Birdbrain, they are-”

“They are Nazis! What did you expect?” 

“That they at least can see pure genius when it stares them in the face!” 

Steve chuckled and Tony could have beamed with joy if he wasn’t still staring down Clint.

“What happened after you got onto their inferior Quinjet?” Steve asked, the smile fond and so beautiful Tony wanted to ask Jarvis to take a picture. But he didn’t. (It was a very close thing though.)

“I took some of the meds we had gotten at a pharmacy, the fever, you know” (admitting that was still better than telling them Winter had deliberately drugged him) “and when I woke up, Buttercup apparently came back from killing thirteen Hydra agents. He had gotten a tail,” (that might be true even if he and by the looks of it Natasha, too, doubted very much) “which is the explanation how I got shot again. I texted Happy and a couple hours later this one” he patted Peter on the back “attached himself onto me like a leech and I’m pretty sure not even surgeons will be able to get rid of him.” Not that he minded it. At all.

“Last time I did, you vanished.” Peter murmured into his side and Tony’s smile died on his lips. He hugged his kid closer, not daring to look at anyone else, because that was what he had done to all of them. Again.

“You will not get rid of any of us for the longest time.” Natasha said, plain and factual. There would be no arguing. No fighting it. 

Tony looked up and met her eyes. They weren’t as open as they had been a couple minutes ago, but she showed deliberately enough to drive the fact home that they actually had broken. All of them. Tony had broken them and he would have to find a way to try to fix them again. To apologize. 

So, for now, he would bear anything and everything because they deserved it. Because he couldn’t be – wouldn’t be! – the reason any of the Avengers would break. Again. (Or stay broken, because he would fix them. That’s what he did and yes, people were so much more complicated than rocket science, but he would try. He would do it.) 

Their breakfast was delivered at six am by a, as Clint later told it, totally weirded out delivery guy – who wasn’t allowed on the common floor. Instead Thor and Clint went downstairs to get everything, because Winter had growled darkly when he realized someone else would get close.

Thor, as the golden sunshine that he was, had tried to talk with Winter which Winter had answered with glares. When Thor had tried to come closer to Tony – he shouldn’t have told Winter about Thor’s hugs – he whipped a blade out and was between Thor and Tony in an instant, pressing the tip of the blade to Thor’s sternum. 

Thor, as the goddamn sunshine that he fucking was, laughed delightedly telling Winter that he reminded him of his brother Loki, which thankfully disturbed everyone aside from Winter – who might or might not know who Loki was and what he had done. Tony tried to ignore the similarities between the two men and while he was at it, he also ignored Natasha’s, Bruce’s and Clint’s stares.

They had breakfast which everyone forced on him and he, Peter and Thor forced on Winter, (who ate it after Peter promised, again, to stay with Tony while he stepped out for literally five minutes and twenty-one seconds - in which Tony was hugged and touched non-stop by all of them, which started to really freak him out) before all of them left to help Shield with clean-up and the broken-down government after yesterday. (Being injured was a blessing in disguise right then. Of course, Tony had tried to come with them, but was stared down by everyone, even Peter. And when he called Pepper to ask if she needed help, she yelled at him, promising she would come over tonight and that if she found him in his workshop she would _kill_ him. At that Winter had glared darkly at the phone and Tony had explained to him that Pepper would never actually kill him – probably. The slightly unsure glances of Peter and Steve hadn’t helped one bit, the traitors.)

Helen came over, yelled at him for being stupid – he resented that – and adjusted his medication, before ordering him to stay in bed and be good – as if she didn’t know him – and Steve (who had refused again point blank to leave), Peter (who had begged for May to be allowed to stay here so adorably that even May couldn’t say no) and – of course – Winter, to make sure he actually stayed out of everything, in bed, ate and drank and didn’t do anything useful or fun.

Now, some hours later, Tony was leaning on the backrest of the couch, Peter asleep on his knees, as he was talking with Steve, who sat beside him, his expression ever changing between fond amusement and desperation, fear or pain. (Tony was still working on making it stay on fond amusement, because Steve shouldn’t be desperate, fearful or in pain. It had absolutely nothing to do with how his heart fluttered in Tony’s chest whenever he smiled _like that_ at Tony, as if all he cared about was that broken man in front of him. Not that that was anything but guilt in Steve, because he was just that good, caring so deeply for his teammates.)

Winter had chosen the armchair again, he had placed strategically to see everything and fell asleep – or as close as he got right now.

Tony was careful to keep his voice quiet and light in the hopes that Winter actually did sleep a little before the rest came back and he would be too cautious again to try it.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner.” 

It would have been less painful if Steve just took a rusty spoon and carved Tony’s heart out of his chest.

“I knew you were looking for me, Steve. It’s okay. And it really wasn’t all that bad. It’s not even in the top twenty-five kidnappings I was involved in.” He smiled, trying desperately to lighten Steve’s mood. The deep lines of worry and regret shouldn’t be on Steve’s face, showing his age in a way that added to the legend on Captain America – and made him even less approachable for Tony. (That might or might not have resulted in him clutching harder to the hand he was holding in his left one. His right arm was draped over the sleeping teenager.) 

“There were more?” Steve’s voice sounded weak and furious at the same time and Tony decided, in his absolute brilliance, to try to make a joke out of it. 

“Forty-eight and a half.” Before Steve could ask what everyone always asked, Tony explained. “There was one in which they did kidnap me, but I was thirteen and a terrible little shit and as I could convince them that” (here he had to force himself to keep his voice even, to tell the story like he had a million times before) “Howard wouldn’t pay the ransom anyway, that I was already experienced in escaping” (true) “and psychological warfare” (technically a lie but he was rather good with it even back then. After all he had learned it from…) “they just beat me up and let me go.”

Instead of the fond smile Tony had hoped for, Steve looked horrified. His grasp on Tony’s hand had gotten almost painful. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came out. His expression changing to grieve and horror.

“I’m back, Steve. We’re going to be fine.”

The blue eyes looked up, brimming with emotions that Tony misread because he wanted them to mean something different. Before he could fuck this situation up even more, he changed the topic.

“Winter really tried his best to make everything as easy as possible.” This wasn’t even a lie. Winter had tried that. He had fucked up, but he also had tried. 

“He took you.” At least now Steve’s voice was harder again, more focused, less pained. 

“True, but he was controlled by Hydra. He didn’t have a choice.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“I saw that. Bring_the_world_down_with_sparks gave me a glimpse into their servers and after we escaped I broke into them. He didn’t have a choice.” 

Steve’s eyebrows rose at Tony’s tone, but he didn’t try to contradict him.

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure.” 

Steve nodded. Accepting it, even if he wasn’t happy with it. Tony could have kissed him.

It might even have happened, if he didn’t have his lap full of a sleeping Spiderling – and if Steve hadn’t stiffened right then, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

Tony turned and met Winter’s eyes.

Fuck.

Winter, either ignoring that Tony already knew by his expression in his eyes what he wanted, nodded towards Steve, before looking back at Tony and let his shoulders slump down some.

Fuck.

Tony inhaled. 

…fuck. 

He held Winter’s eyes for a moment longer. There was nothing like hesitation in them. 

Fuck…

He turned back to Steve, meeting his gaze and bit down on his panic. This wasn’t about him. He had to be there for Steve. It also wasn’t Winter’s fault, he had pushed the other man to tell Steve the truth when he was comfortable with it. 

Logically speaking, it was the best possible option to tell Steve know, to be honest with him. 

But Tony wasn’t ready. He hadn’t even had time to speak with his Honeybear about it. He hadn’t even had a minute to actually come to terms with-

This was Winter’s decision. He had decided. He had made the _right_ decision. He was better at that already than Tony.

“Steve?”

“Tony what… are you okay?”

“I have to tell you something that you need to know but… I know that it will hurt you.”

“Tell me.”

Tony looked in those beautiful blue eyes, trying to engrave the earnest concern in them into his brain to never forget how Steve had looked at him before he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope all of you survived this week, folks.
> 
> As always: stay safe, hopefully healthy and comment, because after this week I really need some positivity... or your honest feelings, telling me that I suck because I might have written another beautiful cliff hanger ;)
> 
> Also: I'm very thankful for all you amazing readers!


	27. Steve: Blank Blue Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets told who the Winter Soldier was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally!
> 
> Also: this story is over 100k now :D

Looking at his genius, Steve felt almost guilty for how happy he was. Tony was here, right in front of him, Steve was even able to hold his hand from time to time and he was safe.

The dark shadows under his eyes were as concerning as the winces he wasn’t able to hide. Which, given Tony’s talent for masks and lying, was concerning. Still, he and Steve were sitting together in the common living room, now turned bedroom for them all and sickbed for Tony. And they were almost alone aside from Peter, who had glared at Steve until falling asleep on Tony’s lap. It all proved to him that Tony really was back. 

The only other person with them was the Winter Soldier, who didn’t seem to ever lose eyesight of Tony. It unnerved Steve. The reactions and glares of the others assured him it wasn’t just his _feelings_. Something was going on. Tony, of that he still was sure, was himself and he couldn’t fathom that anyone could have broken Tony in five days. 

He didn’t even want to think about it. The fact that Tony had downplayed what he had gone through wasn’t a surprise. The fact that he hadn’t said anything at all was. He hadn’t said a negative word about the Winter Soldier, who they all knew had at least kidnapped him and cut the trackers out of Tony’s body. He most likely had shot Tony the first time. It wasn’t far to think he had beaten him, too.

He let his eyes wander to the deadly assassin, almost curled up in his armchair, his eyes closed. After the others had left and they had settled, Tony had told him to sleep and after making sure Peter stayed with Tony and that Steve didn’t do anything suspicious he actually closed his eyes. 

As if _Steve_ was the danger to Tony.

He had failed him, he had let him go, hadn’t protected him, as he should have, but he wasn’t a danger to his genius. If he could, he would take every single one of his injuries and worse if it meant Tony wouldn’t have to suffer the pain, exhaustion and memories.

Because Steve was _certain_ that something had happened. There had been one or two moments in which Tony’s eyes had been clouded over with something that was too close to terror and unimaginable horror. Steve hadn’t asked and he wouldn’t. Because he was a coward. And because right now Tony was smiling, the sunlight dancing in his eyes, painting them in a mixture or caramel and hazelnut making them the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen. 

The fact that he saw all the marks, bruises and bandages only enhanced his beauty. Showing off his strength, proving his resilience and the fact that he didn’t break. Whatever they had done to him, he didn’t break.

Not like Steve had.

“I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner.”

The other man’s smile softened further, his right hand unconsciously playing with Peter’s hair. 

There was a moment of hesitation, and Steve was sure that Tony debated what to say right now. If you asked Tony, he would tell you he was the worst to talk with people about feelings. But that wasn’t true. Tony wasn’t half as awkward or clumsy with feelings as Steve was. Where Tony used so many words no one knew what they had been talking about, Steve didn’t have anything to say at all. Guessing by bits and pieces (and some old media coverage he had seen and read in the beginning after he had woken up) he guessed Howard hadn’t changed that much. He wouldn’t have taught his son to be conscious of his feelings or express them. Steve actually had been too touchy feely for most people back then, hiding it in his art he didn’t show most people. 

“I knew you were looking for me, Steve. It’s okay. And it really wasn’t all that bad. It’s not even in the top twenty-five kidnappings I was involved in.” He smiled, happy and unconcerned and it almost ripped Steve’s heart in two. Some of the emotions he felt must have shown on his face, because Tony’s reassuring hand tightened around his own. He couldn’t name any of the emotions that raged inside of him aside from a cruel horror of knowing how often Tony must have been hurt like this or even worse, because someone wanted to use his money or his genius. Or because they just wanted to hurt him. 

“There were more?” His voice sounded weak to his own ears.

“Forty-eight and a half.” Tony said, nonchalantly. “There was one in which they did kidnap me, but I was thirteen and a terrible little shit and as I could convince them that Howard wouldn’t pay the ransom anyway, that I was already experienced in escaping and psychological warfare they just beat me up and let me go.”

Steve just stared at the other man, whose smile was light and calming, as if that was a joke. As if Steve could see it as a joke. As if… As if he thought Steve wouldn’t care about it. As if Tony couldn’t care less about it. 

Even before becoming a super soldier, Steve hadn’t been dumb or slow. Of course, he wasn’t as brilliant as Tony or Bruce, but… he wasn’t stupid. He couldn’t read people like Natasha could, and most likely Thor too, and he didn’t have the ability to lighten the room like Clint could, but that _little anecdote_ , because that was the tone Tony had used, as if it didn’t matter at all had so many warning bells going off in his head, he didn’t even know what to address first.

That Tony had been kidnapped so often before he turned fourteen that he was known to be good at escaping? 

That Tony, who tended to Dum-E and Jarvis and Peter as his children, encouraging them and loving them openly, even if behind closed doors,had used psychological warfare on his kidnappers even back then?

That Howard, who must have changed, because Steve wouldn’t have been able to be friends with a man like that wouldn’t have paid ransom for his child? For a single heartbeat he wanted to protest, but he knew, there was nothing to protest.

That he thought of being taken and most likely injured as just being beaten up. As if that was normal.

“I’m back Steve. We’re going to be fine.”

Steve blinked, focusing back on the brown eyes that looked guilty. Steve hated the world, Howard Stark and himself in that moment. Could Tony really think Steve might be angry with him? As if Tony didn’t have all the reasons to hate everyone and to stop saving them and the world.

“Winter really tried his best to make everything as easy as possible.”

Steve couldn’t find a lie in his eyes, not even a hint of it. But knowing what Tony just had said, he probably wouldn’t consider being shot and beaten up as making it hard. The thought alone gutted Steve so thoroughly he couldn’t understand why there was no blood when he blinked and looked down to where their hands were joined.

“He took you.” And Steve hadn’t stopped him. He hadn’t even been able to find Tony, because whatever he said, Tony had saved himself. He had somehow turned the Winter Soldier and made his way back to America all on his own. For fuck’s sake, he had been at the Tower before Steve!

“True, but he was controlled by Hydra. He didn’t have a choice.” He smiled again, warm and open and so irresistibly beautiful Steve almost reached out to cup his cheek and kiss him. 

“Did he tell you that?” Steve asked instead, forcing himself to focus. Tony was injured and just came back from a kidnapping. The last thing he needed right now was being forced to deal with Steve’s emotions. 

“I saw that. Bring_the_world_down_with_sparks gave me a glimpse into their servers and after we escaped I broke into them. He didn’t have a choice.”

The fact that Tony’s voice indicated hatred and wrath when he said the hacker’s name almost reassured Steve. Even if Tony was probably only this vengeful because they had dared to attack Jarvis.

“You sure?” It came down to this, didn’t it? Steve trusted Tony, like he trusted no one else in this world since he had crashed the plane in the freezing ocean. 

“I’m sure." 

Steve nodded. He didn’t like it, god, he hated it. But he would trust him as long as the Winter Soldier didn’t give him a reason to think Tony had misjudged the assassin.

The gratitude and relief in the genius eyes and expression was enough to strike him speechless. How could Tony trust anyone after what had been done to him? After Stane and forty-eight and a half times proving to him that people couldn’t be trusted.

His smile was all happiness and joy and Steve would have leaned forward and kissed him, wouldn’t have been able to stop himself if he had wanted to, as the last of Tony’s tenseness melted out of his shoulders now that Steve believed him. 

Steve felt almost high because of it. 

But, of course, it was that moment that the Winter Soldier moved. Gracefully, like Natasha, he stood and moved closer. Steve couldn’t stop himself from tensing up. Yes, he trusted Tony, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be still dangerous to Tony, who was still very much injured, and Peter, who was sleeping on his lap, unaware of anything going on around him.

Tony turned, slowly and haltingly, for once careful of his injuries. Or he just didn’t want to wake his sleeping kid. 

Their eyes met and his whole posture changed. Steve couldn’t see his face, but his whole body screamed a flight response. Begged the Winter Soldier to not do it. Steve had been about to move between them, to shelter Tony from the cold blue eyes, as his gaze met Steve’s before returning to Tony.

In that moment Tony’s shoulders sagged, the death grip on Steve’s hand lost all his strength and all the exhaustion and pain seemed to catch up with Tony.

Steve wanted to scream. He wanted to kick the assassin out, to demand to know what was going on and-

Tony inhaled shakily.

Then he turned towards Steve, his eyes darkened by guilt, by fear and desperate agony.

Worse still was the glint of tears. 

“Steve?” His voice sounded lost and helpless and all Steve wanted to do was reach out and hug the other man to his chest, to hold him close and never let anyone hurt him ever again. 

“Tony what… are you okay?”

“I have to tell you something that you need to know but… I know that it will hurt you.” He didn’t leave any room in that statement and Steve _knew_ that he would be right. But there was no way he would let Tony shoulder that burden alone. 

“Tell me.” 

The look in Tony’s eyes cut Steve so deep, he couldn’t think anything could be worse than that.

Of course, he was wrong.

Tony, holding on to Steve’s hand as if it was the only thing keeping him together, explained to him how the Winter Soldier had been created. He didn’t go into detail, but he didn’t need to, to paint a horrific picture. He started with the _methods_ _to create him_ as Tony put it, hatred and agony distorting his face.

He glossed over the things the Winter Soldier did, not confirming that he had read everything there was to the history of the Winter Soldier, but Steve knew that he had. Tony craved knowledge and he would make certain that at least someone would know everything. He would throw himself gladly on that sword as he always did, to protect others from it. 

He explained in more detail how the brain of the Winter Soldier had been broken and how the serum, most likely a poor copy of Steve’s, had rebuild the _hardware_ , his brain, but not the _software_ , his memories and abilities if they weren’t taught to him after every wipe. 

“I can’t be sure, of course, but…” Tony glanced at the Winter Soldier before finding Steve’s eyes again. “I don’t think he will ever remember anything before he was last put on the chair.” 

Steve nodded. 

He knew there was still something coming. All of this information was disturbing, but didn’t explain Tony’s eyes, his voice, or how hesitant he was. 

“Before Winter became Winter, and was able to lose their conditioning he was the Asset.” Tony inhaled, his hand grabbing Steve with bruising force. Steve wanted to tell him to be careful, to not hurt his shoulder, but he couldn’t say a single word.

“Before he was the Asset he was… Steve, he was James Buchanan Barnes.”

For an endless second Steve didn’t understand. He turned his head, looking back at the unfamiliar blue eyes of the Winter Soldier. 

No.

The next thing he knew, Steve was curled up on Tony’s lap, the engineer’s strong arms around Steve, holding him tight. 

Steve’s sobs and ragged breathing was almost too loud for him to hear Tony’s murmured promise that he was there, that he wouldn’t leave, that Steve wasn’t alone.

It took him a long time to quiet. To stop shaking. To breathe again.

A long time until he realized that Peter was gone. That the light had changed. That Tony was wrapped around him as best as he could. That there were red dots on his bandaged shoulder.

That the Winter Soldier was curled up on his armchair, his eyes wide and afraid.

“…Tony…” He croaked barely able to say the name.

“I’m here, Steve. I’m here.” 

By now Steve was numb. Hollow. Empty. His head was killing him and he seemed to have lost all connection to what must have been the real world. 

The only real thing was the warmth all around him, Tony’s body heat. Tony’s hands. Tony’s heartbeat. Tony’s voice.

“Breathe, Steve. There we go.” The genius praised, his hands never leaving Steve for a second.

Steve tried. Tried to breathe. 

Bucky hadn’t died. 

_Bucky_ hadn’t _died_.

Steve had left him there. 

Left him in the hands of Hydra. Had let them experiment on him for over seventy years.

Steve was going to be sick. He tried to sit up, but his arms didn’t hold him.

“Deep breaths, Steve, come on, I know you can do it.”

They had tortured him. Put him in that _chair_. Had done things to him that- 

This time Steve did push himself off the couch, rushing to the kitchen sink before throwing up. Leaning on the counter, he heaved, new tears falling from his eyes. 

A second later warm hands grabbed onto him. Holding him. Steadying him. He spat in the sink again.

“That’s it, get it all out.” 

The warm hands stayed and he pressed closer to them, until the warmth wrapped around him.

“Couch or bathroom?” Tony asked, calm and warm and the only real thing in Steve’s world.

He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

“Bathroom it is. Come on, I need a trip anyway.”

Steve had no idea how they got there. He was barely aware when Tony pushed a toothbrush in his hand and told him to get to work. 

He did.

He had no idea how or when they got back to the couch, but they were there again, his head pillowed on Tony’s lap as the genius rubbed soothing circles over his arm and back.

Tony was talking to Jarvis. Asking for Steve’s vitals. Asking for the Winter Soldier’s- for _Bucky’s_ vitals.

Steve lifted his head, looking over to the armchair in which, sure enough, the Winter- _Bucky_ sat, his eyes on Tony. Listening as the genius talked about something or other.

 _Bucky_.

“Do you want to drink something?” Steve looked up at Tony and sure enough, the genius smiled down at him, pain lining his eyes, but the smile was full of warmth, reassurance and _Tony._

Steve nodded.

Before he could take the decision back, because Tony couldn’t move away, couldn’t leave him here, the Winter- _Bucky_ was in front of them, handing a glass of water to Tony. He took one step back, not meeting Steve’s eyes.

If Steve were in his shoes, he would never look at him again either. 

Coaxing him upright, Tony pushed the glass into Steve’s hands, before looking back at… _Bucky_. 

“Do you want to sit with us?” His voice was calm and warm. Not pressuring the other man. Inviting. 

… _Bucky_ sat down beside Tony and they seemed to exchange a look. Tony shook his head and … _Bucky’s_ eyes hardened.

“I’m fine.” Tony’s voice was even and calm.

But how could Tony be fine? He couldn’t be. It was hard to think. To remember. But Tony had been hurt. Steve’s eyes wandered over the other man’s body and found the blood colouring his bandage and shirt.

Steve knew what to do. He would tell Tony to sit back and relax. Then he would call Dr. Cho and May and ask them to come because he might have pulled his stitches. He would get him pain medication and make sure he got something to eat, because Tony had lost too much weight. 

He did nothing. 

He didn’t ask how Tony felt. What this had done to him. After everything. 

He had not only taken his kidnapper back to the Tower but found him the one thing he wanted. His best friend from back in the day. His _brother_. Tony had promised he would find something Steve wanted, hadn’t he?

Was that the reason he hadn’t said a word against … _Bucky_ ? To spare Steve? To not let him know that his _brother_ had hurt his… love? 

No. Tony didn’t know that. He didn’t know…

And he was better than that. After finding out what had been done to him, Tony would have helped him regardless of who he was.

Steve blinked. It was darker now.

“You’re with me, Steve?”

He looked up in Tony’s eyes. Beautiful, understanding and showing pain Steve couldn’t feel anymore.

Steve nodded.

Tony smiled at him, sad and exhausted. “The others will be back in about thirty minutes. Do you want to… freshen up?”

Steve shook his head, curling up closer to Tony, hugging his middle. 

“Hey, it’s okay Steve, I’m here.”

He didn’t say anything more, just held onto Steve and continued the one-sided conversation. 

With _Bucky._

Bracing himself, Steve looked up at him. His brother. The one person he missed more than anyone else. Even his Ma.

He must have felt his gaze, because he looked at Steve. Without recognition. Without familiarity. 

Just two blank, blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my lovely beta reader Justanotherpuff!
> 
> And thank you to all my lovely readers! 
> 
> Some of you seem to have a really hard time right now, and I get it. If you need someone to talk message me on Tumblr, same username. I will always have an open ear.
> 
> We will survive this! Love you all!


	28. Winter: Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winter thought his life was interesting when he met Tony. Well it was the start, wasn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s done. I’m not sure how I’m feeling.
> 
> If you wanna know how it’s going to progress (because it will go on!) read the notes at the end :) 
> 
> Thanks to Justanotherpuff :) 
> 
> Enjoy!

Winter decided that Tony should tell the Captain about who Winter had been when he saw the trust he extended to Tony. Of course, he didn’t trust Winter. He glared at him whenever Winter moved, but he had looked at Tony with what was more than… It was more. 

He trusted Tony like Winter trusted Tony. And Tony had said they needed to tell the Captain about it when Winter was okay with it. He knew that Tony wouldn’t abandon him. He hadn’t told any of them what Winter had done, protecting him with both his words and actions and making sure he felt as safe as possible. Even when he was clearly about to fall over.

So, he decided that Tony should tell him.

He almost took it back when he saw the pain in Tony’s eyes. Wasn’t that what he was supposed to do? Tony had said he should do it and- 

But Tony had turned away already, meeting the Captain’s eyes. He told him the story. Some of it even Winter didn’t know. As he didn’t remember any of it, he didn’t feel bad about it. Why would he? Tony also very obviously didn’t tell everything. He barely hinted at what Winter’s missions had included.

“Before Winter became Winter, and was able to lose their conditioning he was the Asset.” Tony’s voice was factual. Sure. And Winter was thankful for it. Because whoever or whatever he had been before, now he was Winter. He was himself and he didn’t want to be anyone else. Especially not someone he didn’t remember. Someone he didn’t know he could be.

“Before he was the Asset he was… Steve,” agony laced the Captain’s name, but it wasn’t Tony’s. Although Winter knew he was hurting too. He hurt for the Captain.

“He was James Buchanan Barnes.”

The name didn’t mean anything to Winter. It didn’t hold fear or want or anything else. It was just a name he had heard before. 

It was different for the Captain, who jerked as if he had been electrocuted before looking at Winter, his eyes searching.

The Captain broke.

Winter had seen people break under stress or pain or fear or torture. But he had never seen someone break like that.

Peter, who had been sleeping on Tony jumped up, disoriented and ready to fight. 

“It’s okay, Peter.” Tony was holding onto the Captain as if to hold him together with nothing but his arms and will.

“Would you go down to my lab or up to my floor? We need… some time.” 

“Mr. Stark-”

“Now, Peter, I’m sorry. Go.”

The boy nodded, almost fleeing the floor. Winter wanted to follow him.

“Jarvis.”

“I will inform Mrs. Parker immediately.”

“Thank you, Jay.”

Winter’s eyes were fixed on the scene in front of him. On a man, a legend and warrior, unravelled until there seemed to be nothing left. And still, Tony held onto him. Whispering calming words to him. Promising him to be there. And every other minute he would look up at Winter and tell him the same things.

That he had done the right thing. Even if it had broken the superhero. Even if it had hurt Tony, too.

How could this have been the right thing? Wouldn’t the Captain be better off if he hadn’t been told? Tony had said it himself, Winter was Winter. He wasn’t that other person, wasn’t Barnes. Wasn’t  _ James _ . Why tell the Captain what so clearly just hurt him? 

Why?

He knew Tony didn’t do it to hurt the other man. Or Winter. Tony wouldn’t do that. Especially not to the other man. He was caring for everyone, but it was different with the Captain, as it was different with the kid. Even if it was a different kind of different. 

Tony wouldn’t do that.

Winter saw the first flecks of red appear on his bandages, saw it soak through his shirt but didn’t say anything. He had not only lost his words, but also everything else. All he could do was stare at them and try to believe Tony, when he mumbled those reassuring words to him. To follow his instructions when he told both Winter and the Captain to breathe, to calm.

After what felt like a long time, the Captain quieted. He looked around and met Winter’s eyes. They were red rimmed and unfocused, as if he wasn’t really here.

“…Tony…” he croaked with a desperation that hurt Winter. He had done this.

“I’m here, Steve. I’m here.” Tony’s voice was calm and warm and safe.

The Captain’s breathing sped up again and Tony clutched him closer to himself. “Breathe, Steve. There we go.” It was the same he had done for Winter, the same he was doing for Winter whenever he looked up at him. Even if Winter saw the strain on Tony. The pain. The fear. The exhaustion. There was nothing of it in his eyes or on his face. Nothing of it in his voice.

The Captain’s body jerked upwards but the arms of Tony, small, breakable Tony, held the super soldier back. 

“Deep breaths, Steve, come on, I know you can do it.” He looked up at Winter, his smile sad but reassuring. He wanted Winter to breathe too. 

As if sensing his distraction, the Captain jerked upwards again, getting to his feet and storming towards the kitchen, retching into the sink as soon as he got there.

Tony followed, pushing himself upwards not trying to hide his wince, or how he favoured his left side. As if he didn’t even realize it.

A minute later, Winter followed. Staying far away enough to hopefully not be noticed by the Captain. But he needed to see. To stay close to Tony.

Tony ushered the numb shadow of the Captain towards the bathroom and Winter cleaned the sink, before following, staying out of the bathroom but close enough to react if… if what? The Captain was certainly too out of it to… But what if he was that far gone that he wouldn’t know who it was? Didn’t know who was with him and hurt Tony because of it?

Winter had his hand on the door knob when Tony pushed his open, the weight of the other super soldier obviously too much for him to carry – and still doing it.

He reached out and stopped.

Tony met his eyes, uncertainty flashing over his face for the first time since Winter had decided the Captain should be told what Tony had said he needed to know.

Then he nodded, a sad smile on his lips and Winter took the other arm of the Captain, draping it over his shoulder and helping both of them back to the couch. Tony sat down first, helping Winter to rearrange the unresponsive man so that he lay on his lap like Peter had before. His right-hand rubbing circles into the Captain’s skin.

“How are you, Buttercup?” He asked, his eyes focused on Winter and Winter wanted to scream. 

Instead he raised an eyebrow and glaring at the red spots on Tony’s shirt.

Tony smiled. “We’ll take care of that later. It’s not that bad.”

Winter was almost sure it was a lie. Still, he got back to his armchair, curling up in it, seeking comfort. Like Peter had. Like the Captain did.

Tony just nodded at him, starting to talk to that man, Jarvis, asking after Peter, other people and their vitals.

Jarvis wanted Tony to be looked at but Tony forbad it, telling the unseen man that there would be time for that after the Captain had calmed down.

Winter thought Jarvis didn’t approve. But he didn’t say so and neither did Winter.

He let himself be lulled by Tony’s calm voice planning, asking questions and suggesting actions to be taken.

When the Captain moved again, sometime later, Tony smiled down at him with a different smile than he had given all of the other people before. Winter started to learn that Tony had a lot of different expressions and smiles. 

“Do you want to drink something?”

Winter moved before he knew what he was doing. He was already in the kitchen, searching for a glass. He took it back to Tony, handing it over, too uncomfortable to even look at the man that he had broken.

Tony helped the Captain to sit up, not mentioning how he leaned heavily on the smaller man and instead smiled up at Winter. 

“Do you want to sit with us?” It was just a question, but the glint in his eyes told Winter he knew, that Winter felt lost. 

He sat down beside Tony, not touching him, but close enough to feel his body heat. To hear his heartbeat, a little too fast, but strong. He glanced at the other man and saw the smile widen a little. He raised his eyebrow. Tony needed medication. And something to drink too. And someone had to look at his shoulder, and-

Tony shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Winter narrowed his eyes. Tony wasn’t fine. They both knew it. For now, Winter wouldn’t do anything but if this went on for much longer he would do something.

The voice informed them some time later that the Avengers would be arriving at the Tower in about thirty minutes and Tony exhaled, calmly.

“You’re with me, Steve?”

The Captain looked up, from where he had lain with closed eyes on Tony’s lap and nodded.

“The others will be back in about thirty minutes. Do you want to… freshen up?”

The other man shook his head hard, curling up closer to Tony, his arms tightening around Tony’s middle in a way that had Winter tense. If the Captain wasn’t careful he could seriously injure Tony with that grip. 

Tony didn’t seem to care. He resumed the patting of the other man, talking to Winter about what they would do tonight. Tony had decided they should order Pizza and watch a movie and tried to find out what Winter would like to have for toppings and what he liked to watch. 

Winter had no idea and thought there were more important things to think about. Tony disagreed, obviously, not caring in the slightest when Winter glared at him.

The Captain moved on Tony’s lap, turning his head to look up at Winter. As if he was searching for something but Winter didn’t know what that was. Who he was looking for.

“…Bucky.”

Winter stiffened, partly because of the name he didn’t know, but mostly because of the doomed hope and desperation behind it. 

“Steve.” Tony places a hand on the other man’s cheek and forces him to look at him. 

Winter, who hadn’t realized how much he had tensed, tried to relax, even a little, now that those lost eyes were no longer on him. He couldn’t. 

“He is Winter. He is  _ himself _ right now.” The words were warm and sad but also hard. Uncompromising. Even if pain was all over his expression he didn’t budge, didn’t give in the almost inaudible whimper of the Captain. Just held on.

One tear fell from the broken man’s blue eyes, rolling its way down the side of his face until Tony wiped it away.

Steve buried his face into Tony’s stomach again and Tony started to tell the Captain about what Winter had done (only the good things, not even hinting on all the times Winter had hurt Tony) and what he had learned so far. 

While doing so, he held onto the blond man. Smiling at Winter. As if his heart didn’t bleed. His eyes dry. His shoulders loose and bleeding. 

“And of course, when  _ I  _ try to teach someone to be honest said person, who, aside from his training, is as innocent as they can come, immediately picks up on avoiding lying with tricking me,  _ me _ ! Into taking medicine! Can you believe it? But whenever I tell a white lie, he decides that the truth is back in fashion, glaring and growling until I admit what he wants to hear and the worst thing is, I listen to it!”

The wet chuckle from the Captain made Tony stop and look down at him. 

He had calmed down again, a faint smile on his lips. “Bucky… had the same effect on me.” 

Winter stiffened again, ready to… he didn’t know what to do, but he was ready to stand his ground because he was Winter. And Tony had said it was good that he was Winter.

The Captain exhaled, pushed himself into a sitting position and exhaled again. His hand was interlaced with Tony’s, but he wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at Winter. His eyes were still pained, still hollow. Still desperate. But there were also focused again, dry and firm.

“Thank you… Winter.” His voice was hoarse and he stumbled over the name. But he said it, not the other one. “Thank you. You protected Tony and… you brought him back to me. To us.”

Winter didn’t react. Because he didn’t know how to react to it. What was he supposed to do? What-

“That is so typical for you, Steve, I’m not a damsel in distress! It’s not like I did nothing!” Tony’s words were teasing, his tone too loud and over the top, even though he leaned closer to the Captain and reached out to Winter to squeeze his hand.

The other man chuckled, an exhausted smile whispering over his lips. “Of course not, Tony.”

“Damn straight!” Tony smiled a fake smile and then slumped down enough for Winter to almost reach out to him. He exhaled slowly and dread started to pool in Winter’s stomach. Tony glanced at Winter before meeting the Captain’s eyes, who got tense too.

“I understand if this is… it’s a lot. If you need time I will help you get another place or, or we figure something out, but I will help Winter. He doesn’t know yet what he wants to do or what we can do, but I will help him.” His voice was uncompromising again, with something else that almost sounded like a plea to Winter. A plea for what?

The Captain’s eyes hardened and he leaned forward, all of his focus on Tony. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave yo- here.” He glanced at Winter, a shadow growing in the blue, before he looked back at Tony and his whole demeanour softened. “It will take time and I might need to go see a therapist after all, but I’m not going to leave.”

Tony relaxed, his body uncurling and losing most of his strength as he leaned back against the couch, his eyes closing for a moment before he exhaustedly smiled up at the Captain. “We might get a group discount because I think Winter and me should go, too.”

At that the Captain stiffened some, but Tony was already too out of it to realize it. His eyes wandered over to Winter with a mixture of mistrust and dread. Something in that statement had made him fear for Tony. That was bad.

Ten minutes later Jarvis announces the other Avengers, who entered the common room not two minutes later. The still unseen man must have warned them because they didn’t say a word about the state Tony and the Captain were in. Not even when they saw the blood and started to shoot glares at Winter.

Fifteen minutes later Peter and the nurse were back. Peter curled into Tony’s side again, obviously distressed. The nurse patched Tony up, not saying anything, but glaring at both Winter and Steve the whole time.

Tony was asleep when the Pizza arrived and the only reason he didn’t snap, or so Hawkeye said, was because they let Peter wake him up.

Peter stayed with Tony when Winter left the room to eat and use the bathroom. When he came back, he overheard the Avengers mumbling to themselves. Apparently, they had bet whether or not the Captain would tell Tony how he felt and they were disappointed (Thor), enraged (Hawkeye) and unsurprised (Dr. Banner and the Black Widow) that he hadn’t.

That didn’t make sense to Winter as they had talked about their damn feelings all day long.

Tony was already asleep, curled up between the Captain and Peter. Both looked at Winter when he sat down on his armchair again. The kid smiled tiredly. The Captain tried to. It looked pained.

They started a movie and Winter kept watch. Every one of them glanced suspiciously at him from time to time. Their worry for both the Captain, Tony and Peter was heavy, but no one said anything.

Winter leaned back in his seat, allowing himself some comfort. He might not trust them, but he did trust Tony and he knew that neither Peter nor the Captain would let harm come to Tony.

Glancing again over all of the people around him, he held back a sigh. This would take some serious getting used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s done! It’s freaking done! 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking with me and the story, all your support and comments! 
> 
> I’ve planned the next 4 installments (and the wedding one. No, it’s not in the 4, but it’s coming, I promise!)
> 
> The next one will start where this one ended: with every person who lost Tony trying to cope with it! 
> 
> See you hopefully all in the next one!
> 
> Love you all!
> 
> And FYI: it might take me a week to start writing again, as I have to reread everything to make sure I don’t forget anything!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to scream at me, feel free to do it in the comments.
> 
> If you have ideas or demands you can leave there, too.
> 
> Love you all :D


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